Closest Thing To Family
by Far Away In Wonderland
Summary: "Is this the residence of Michael James Ross?" the woman asked. She spoke with an English accent and every word sounded posh and proper. "Yes," Mike replied. "I'm him." And then because the woman still hadn't introduced herself, he asked: "How may I help you?" The woman took a deep breath. "My name is Narcissa Malfoy," she finally answered. "And I need your help."


**AN:** This is the story I wrote for andthetardis for the Marvey Secret Santa 2017 on tumblr. The presents have finally been revealed and now I can post this here ^^ lease don´t expect any coherent timeline. I just wrote the story I wanted without regards to when they canonically took place. Just imagine the Harry Potter timeline was pushed back twenty years or something ;)

* * *

The woman standing on the other side of the door looked completely out of place, wearing a bespoken gown that looked like it belonged on some opera premiere and not on the hallway of Mike´s apartment complex. Not a single strand of her black hair was out of place and yet, even though her expression was nothing but neutral, Mike couldn't help but feel the disdain that oozed from the woman in waves.

"Can I help you?" Mike finally asked when it became apparent that the woman wouldn't be the first one to speak.

"Is this the residence of Michael James Ross?" the woman asked. She spoke with an English accent and every word sounded posh and proper. Just listening to her asking that simple question made Mike feel plebeian and uncouth.

"Yes," Mike replied. "I´m him." And then because the woman still hadn't introduced herself, he asked: "How may I help you?" The woman took a deep breath.

"My name is Narcissa Malfoy," she finally answered. "And I need your help." Mike raised an eyebrow at the woman, but didn't comment any further. For a short moment he thought about just resfusing her, but even though he knew that nothing good came from the Malfoy family and their ilk, he couldn't turn away someone asking for his help.

"I think it´d be for the best if you came in," Mike replied instead. He stepped aside and allowed Malfoy to enter Trevor and his apartment. Malfoy must have been really good at concealing her feelings for Mike couldn't catch a single slip of her expression that would indicate the disdain he was sure she must have felt towards the two-room-apartment with the worn furniture and the outdated electronical appliances.

People like her didn't like being confronted with lifestyles different than theirs.

"Can I offer you something to drink?" Mike asked, after Malfoy sat down at their dining table. He hadn't forgotten the rules of politeness his Grammy had instilled in him at young age. That woman could host the world´s most deplorable and would still offer them her best tea – and then she would sick the police on them.

"Thank you, but no," Malfoy declined his offer. "This hopefully won´t take long." Mike sat down opposite of her and waited for the woman to finally explain what she was doing in his apartment. He was pretty sure that if Malfoy possessed any less poise, the awkwardness of the moment would have made her fidget nervously, but all she did was stare unwaveringly at Mike.

"How aware are you of your family history?" she finally asked.

"Enough to wonder what the Malfoy matriarch is doing in a Mundane flat in New York when she should be busy with licking a genocidal maniac´s shoes instead," Mike replied cuttingly. Instead of rising to the bait, all Malfoy did was purse her lips.

"So, you know…"

"…I know of the magical world," Mike finished for her. "I´m also very much aware of current politics, thanks to the New York Ghost." He paused. "On the personal side, I also know that my grandfather was Abraxas Malfoy´s younger brother who was cast out of the family when it became clear upon his eleventh birthday that he was a Squib." He leaned back on his chair. "That still doesn't explain why you´re here."

"Because when all is said and done, there is still family to fall back on," Malfoy replied.

"I wouldn't really consider us family," Mike pointed out.

"You are the only choice that is left to me," Malfoy told him.

"Choice for what?" Mike asked again.

"The Dark Lord has been defeated, but as you Americans never took real interest in 'petty' Old World affairs it will probably take a while until it will be reported," Malfoy stated. "My husband is trying to salvage what he can, but many of his former followers –"

"– you husband´s colleagues, you mean," Mike threw in, but Malfoy ignored him.

"– are still free, hunting for supposed 'traitors' and the Light side, drunk on a victory that is not even theirs, does not restrict itself when it comes to handing out the Kiss."

"I still fail to see how that is a concern of mine," Mike replied coldly. So sue him for not feeling very sympathetic towards magical Nazis.

"I have a son," Malfoy told him. "Draco. He is one year old and I fear for him should anything happen to us." She paused as if she was gathering the courage to press on. "I need you to take care of him." Mike´s jaw dropped. He must look like the unrefined Mundane Malfoy probably thought he was, but he couldn't quite find the right response to what the woman had just proposed.

"Obviously not for very long," Malfoy continued, obvious to Mike´s brain having short-circuited. "Just until my husband has everything sorted out."

"Wait, wait," Mike interrupted. Malfoy shut her mouth. "Are you serious? You want me, a Mundane descendant of a disgraced and cast out Squib, to take care of the future heir of the Noble House of Malfoy?" He let out a dry chuckle. "How about you get real? If you really think that family´s your final back-up, then drop that mask of yours and tell me your real reasons. Otherwise the door is over there."

For a short moment it looked like Malfoy was about to stand up and leave without a word, but then every bit of fight seemed to leave her as her shoulders sagged and she let out a shaky breath. The Malfoy patriarch disappeared and was instead replaced by a scared, young mother.

Hell, the woman was probably only a few years older than him, Mike suddenly realised.

"I fear what will happen to our son if anything was to happen to us," Malfoy confessed. "My husband has no living relatives and the only family members I have left are either insane, imprisoned or blood-traitors. And I am even more afraid of what would happen to him if a light family took him in; how they would use him for their own political ends, like a puppet on their strings." Her hands were trembling, but Mike didn't think that Malfoy wanted any comfort from him, so he didn't try at all.

"What makes you think I´m the better choice?" Mike asked. "You have to know that I can´t and won´t give your son the uprising you probably think he deserves."

"Because you are family, even if only distant one," Malfoy replied. "And because I observed you before I came to you: I know that you are intelligent, but also kind; ruthless and ambitious when needed. And because you are the furthest away from Britain as possible while stile staying within family boundaries. Of all the options, you are the least bad." She paused. "And besides, it would not be for a long time. My husband has many friends within the Ministry and enough gold to buy even more."

Mike didn't reply, but deep down he knew that he wouldn't – couldn't – refuse the woman´s request. Even though she tried to not make it look like it, she came here out of desperation: She feared for her child´s safety and its future and Mike wasn´t so cruel to turn her away – couldn't be so needlessly cruel to an innocent child; not because he disagreed with its parent´s political views. He would never be able to look at himself with anything but shame and disgust if he was to deny Malfoy´s request.

"I´ll do it," Mike finally agreed, his words causing Malfoy´s posture to straighten again. "But…I don't have the money to adequately take care of a child." It burned to admit to his own poverty, but for the sake of the child he would do it. "As you are probably already aware."

"That has been taken care of," Malfoy dismissed.

"And you´re really sure that you want to do this?" Mike asked again, trying to make sure that Malfoy was really sure about her decision.

"I am," the woman replied resolutely. "When it comes to my child´s safety there is now depth I would not sink to; not a single thing I would not be willing to sacrifice." There was a hint of steel in her voice as she said that. It was a statement but also a warning.

"Then let us proceed." Malfoy snipped with her fingers and in the next moment a childlike creature appeared in the middle of Mike´s apartment. Its skin was sickly-grey, its legs and arms so skinny that it looked like nothing but skin over bones. Two floppy ears framed its bald head where disproportionate big eyes stared at Mike with something akin to wonder and trepidation. In its arms it held a blue bundle which was nearly as big as the creature´s body.

"Mistress called Dobby, so Dobby came with young master," the creature squeaked in a high voice. Without words, Malfoy held out her hands in which Dobby carefully placed his ward.

"Meet your great-cousin," Malfoy said and handed the bundle over to him. Carefully, Mike took the baby into his arms and held it to his chest. Looking down upon it, he looked into the face of a sleeping Draco Malfoy for the first time. Like all babies – in Mike´s opinion, anyway – he didn't look very remarkable. Round features that were relaxed in sleep and a whiff of blonde hair atop his head. As Mike held him, the baby let out a small yawn, but otherwise he didn't move.

"I still think that this is a bad idea," Mike remarked.

"Nothing you say shall change my mind," Malfoy replied evenly. "And he has yet to wake up and cry, which I will take as a good sign." For a split-second it looked like she wanted to touch her child, but she held herself back. "It is not for long. The moment it is safe for him, we shall take him back to England." She stood up and brushed off imaginary dust from her dress. Standing up as well, Mike accompanied her towards the door, the sleeping Draco still in his arms.

"I shall have Dobby bring you some of Draco´s belongings," Malfoy told him as she stood in the doorway. "If you need anything, call him and he shall come." Mike nodded in response.

"I can´t say that I like you or what you stand for," he began, "but I know how it is to grow up without parents and I wouldn't wish that for anyone." He swallowed. "So, I hope that you´ll be able to bring everything in order so that Draco won´t have to live through the same." Malfoy just nodded and then with a loud crack she vanished into thin air, leaving no indication but for the baby in Mike´s arms, that she had ever been there.

"Guess it´s just you and me then," Mike mumbled to the sleeping boy in his arms as he closed the door. "At least until Trevor comes back." Mike shook his head in amusement. "He´s gonna flip."

* * *

"Mike, why is there a crib with a baby in it in our apartment?" Trevor asked, eyebrows raised. Mike continued to flip through the channels, acting as if everything was as always. Dobby had brought some of Draco´s stuff earlier, with a lot of 'Master Mikey' and 'Squibby Malfoy' thrown in, which had Mike torn between amusement and annoyance. When he had thanked the creature for its help, the elf had burst into tears and had vanished with a loud crack.

"Mike," Trevor whined. "Tell me why there´s a baby. Did you get some girl pregnant and she decided to drop it on you? I thought you were on a men-bender right now, you know, only taking it up the ass for the moment." Mike shot him an annoyed glare.

"Not in front of the child!" he hissed at his friend. Trevor just rolled his eyes at him.

"Relax, dude, he´s, like, super tiny," he drawled. "He´s not gonna know what it means until he´s at least fourteen." He flopped down next to Mike on the couch. "But don´t change the topic: Where did the baby come from?"

"His mother dropped him off," Mike replied. "She wants me to take care of him until she and her husband got some things sorted out."

"Her husband?" Trevor repeated. "So, she´s already moved on from you? Man, that sucks, like, totally."

"It´s not like that," Mike defended himself and because he knew how weak that sounded, he continued: "She´s a relative of mine and wants him to be with family while she´s got…other things to do." Trevor beckoned for him to continue by raising his eyebrows. "His name is Draco Malfoy."

"Malfoy as in the family your grandfather came from?" Trevor clarified. Mike nodded.

"Why would they do that?" Trevor wanted to know.

"It´s complicated," Mike sidestepped the question.

"It must be if they give their son to a Mundane," Trevor remarked. Mike felt bad because he knew how Trevor reacted to the mention of anything magic related. As first-generation Squib of a magical family, he always had a difficult relationship to the magical world. Maybe that was why they had bonded so deep and fast once they had met: Over the fact that they both were aware of a world that they would never be allowed to be part of as anything but outsiders.

"It won´t be for very long," Mike assured his friend. "A few weeks tops."

"I don't mind," Trevor replied. "I mean, as long as I don't have to change diapers or something." He grinned. "I´m gonna be the cool uncle." Mike threw a couch cushion at him which hit Trevor straight in the face.

It was in this moment that Draco woke up and began to scream.

"You woke him!" Trevor hissed at Mike. "Take care of that demon." Mike rolled his eyes at his friend´s antics but stood up nevertheless and walked over to the fussing baby.

"Hey Draco," he murmured as he took the boy out of his crib. "What´s going on?" Obviously, the boy didn't answer and instead continued on to cry on Mike´s shoulders, interrupted only by hiccups and Draco´s need to breath in once in a while.

"Maybe he´s hungry?" Trevor suggested.

"Can you look for baby formula?" Mike asked him. "It´s somewhere in the stuff that got dropped off." With a loud groan, Trevor stood up and began rummaging through the various assortment of baby products Dobby had brought over from the Malfoys. When he had found the baby formula, he went over to their kitchenette and began looking for milk and a clean pot.

"Never thought I´d make baby formula in my twenties," he murmured. "I hadn't planned on even encountering a baby until I was at least fifty." Mile laughed while he petted Draco´s back in an attempt to get the boy to stop crying which he was only marginally successful at.

Finally, Trevor was finished with preparing the formula and a few minutes later, Draco´s cries had become silent as he was happily suckling at his bottle.

"We´re a damn good team," Mike commented. Trevor just grinned at him.

"Fuck yeah!"

* * *

Taking care of an infant was both easier and more difficult than Mike had expected it would be. Draco was satisfied with sleeping, being played with when he was awake and liked to eat a lot more than Mike would expect fit in his stomach. On the other hand, changing diapers was even worse than all those movies and books described it and sometimes he cried for hours for no apparent reason. Mike suspected that he missed his mother and his heart broke when he walked through their apartment at 3am, the crying boy on his arms while he murmured soothing words to him, knowing that he could do nothing more.

Sometimes Dobby would drop by to see how Draco was fairing under their care. The first time he had appeared in their bathroom while Trevor had been under the shower. His squeaky scream had echoed through the whole building and had Mike in stitches the whole day every time he saw the disgruntled face of his friend.

The house elf never answered questions about the Malfoys. Whether he didn't know or was ordered to not relay any information, Mike didn't know, but it was quite disconcerting to not know what was going on with them, even if it was only for Draco´s sake.

Even though Trevor mocked him for turning into a stay-at-home dad, Mike didn't really regret his decision. When he had looked into his account balance two days after Narcissa Malfoy´s visit he had found that fifty-thousand Dollar had been transferred to him for 'first week expenses'. Apparently, the Malfoys didn't really know how much the upkeep of a young child cost. First thing he did was taking a leave of absence from his work as bike messenger until Draco would go back to his parents.

Speaking of Trevor, Mike really didn't know what he would have done without his friend. When he was completely worn out because Draco had been crying again or when he just needed a little time for himself, he could just hand the boy over to his friend and just relax, because he knew that Trevor would take good care of Draco. Also, Trevor did all of the grocery shopping and, dear God, did Mike love him for it.

Taking care of a baby with his best friend – even if only temporarily – did offer other challenges, though, which they both learned when they were out in Central Park with Draco in his stroller, gnawing on one of stuffed animals. They were sitting on a bench when they were approached by a woman in her late twenties, her cheeks red from the cold and a bright smile on her face.

"Hi, there," she addressed them. "I´m Tracey and I just noticed you sitting here. I came over to ask if you wanted to sit with us –" she pointed towards a group of benches on the other side of the lawn where a group of seven women with their respective children in strollers sat. " – we´re always looking for new people to join our group." Mike looked at Trevor who seemed just as perplexed as he was, but then he just shrugged and stood up. Following suit, Mike manoeuvred the stroller around and followed Tracey.

"Girls, I found another pair!" Tracy exclaimed when they reached the group, making the other women squeal in excitement.

"It´s really time that we got some men around here," one of the two Asian women amongst the group said. "I´m Linda and that´s Lanying and no, we´re not related." Both of them laughed as if that wasn't the first time they made that particular comment.

"I´m Mikaela," the African-American woman introduced herself. "And if you´re afraid of those two femme fatales, don't worry, we all are." She winked at them and threw her head back in a boisterous laughter.

"Santana." The only Hispanic amongst the group spoke so quietly that Mike nearly wasn't able to make her out, but her smile was pure and heartfelt, so Mike instantly took a liking to her.

"And that´s Barbara and Helen," Tracey introduced the last to women who waved at them enthusiastically.

"Well, I´m Mike, he´s Trevor and that´s Draco," Mike introduced them.

"That´s such a beautiful name," Helen gushed. "I wanted to name my girl Cassiopeia, but my husband wanted Chelsea instead, like his mother and now I´m reminded of that dragon every time I call her." Her lips thinned into a line of displeasure. Sitting down on the last empty bench near them, Mike didn't really know how to respond. Langying saved the moment…or made it even more awkward.

"So, how long have you been together?" she asked. "It´s great to see two men raising a child." Mike and Trevor both started stammering unintelligible at the same moment while Draco used the moment to squeal in excitement.

"We´re not together," Trevor finally managed to get out while Mike nodded enthusiastically next to him.

"Yeah, we´re just taking care of him while his parents are on a…business trip," he added.

"Oh," Tracy said. "That´s embarrassing."

"No, it´s not," Mike assured her.

"We really could use some help," Trevor told them. "We´re not completely clueless, but right now we´ve only got blogs and some guidebooks that tell us what to do." A murmur went through the group and then they were right in the middle of an animated discussion about which blogs they could trust and which not, what each women recommended they should read to better prepare themselves and what information they didn't have but wished they had had when their children had been born.

It was an easy-going, carefree discussion and when the group broke apart after the first child started fussing (this time it was Tracey´s Rachel which meant that she had to bring cookies the next time they met. That was there system, Mikaela told them) they exchanged numbers and promised to meet each other again.

"They were kind of terrifying," Trevor admitted after they rounded the block. Silently, Mike agreed with his friend.

Meeting with the 'Femme Fatales' as Mike and Trevor came to call them soon became a weekly ritual, even if it was only Mike sometimes while Trevor was out, doing 'work'. It was kind of refreshing to have friends who didn't knew him that well, who just saw his façade and were satisfied with it. Who didn't pry, didn't want to know if he wasn't willing to tell.

Plus, they gave great advise.

Jenny met Draco one week into his stay with Mike and Trevor when she suddenly stood in front of their door, pizza in one and a six-pack of beer in the other hand. Like the whirlwind she was, she straight-out walked into their apartment and didn't even bat an eye when she saw Draco sitting on his blanket, playing with his toys.

"Well, there goes my chance of ever banging one of you," she commented drily, causing Trevor to laugh out loud and Mike to splutter. "You decided to elope and get a baby without telling me!"

They did tell her then – leaving out the magical part of it, because Jenny was a Mundane through and through – which caused her to promise them her help should they ever need it. Since then she came to their apartment every now and then and played with Draco, much to the boy´s delight who practically soaked up all the attention he was getting from them.

Every day, Mike waited for Narcissa Malfoy to knock at his dwoor and take back her son, but each day that moment wouldn't come and he wondered what the Malfoys were doing that was taking them so long. If they were even still alive or already dead and no one told him. He looked at the sleeping Draco and wished with all of his heart that the boy would get his parents back.

It would be a futile wish.

* * *

For what was the second time of his life Mike opened the door to a person that didn't look like he belonged on the other side of it. The man standing in front of him was wearing a tweet suit that looked like it came straight out of the 1800s, including a shiny black cane with a silver handle and a golden pocket watch. In his other hand he held a black suitcase engraved with an old and noble looking insignia. A with moustache graced the man´s face who looked at him sagely.

"Is this the residence of one Michael James Ross?" the man asked in British accent. A foreboding feeling took hold of Mike as the all too familiar conversation took place.

"Yes, that´s me," Mike replied.

"My name is Sir George Exeter from the law firm Exeter & Associates," the man introduced himself. "And I´m here concerning the last will and testament of Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy." A sudden coldness spread through Mike´s whole body like an especially insidious poison and for a moment he couldn't do anything but gape at the man on his doorstep.

"They were killed?" Mike finally managed to croak out. Exeter cleared his throat.

"I think it would be for the best if we were to retreat into your flat," he suggested. "Such sensitive business should not be discussed in the open."

"Of course," Mike agreed and stepped aside. Inside the apartment, Exeter spared a short glance towards Trevor who was playing with Draco on the couch before he put his suitcase on the table. Trevor looked at him questioningly, but Mike just told him with a single gaze to stay put.

"Trevor´s my best friend and he´s been helping me with Draco over the last few weeks," Mike explained when he noticed Exeter´s confused gaze. "Everything you say, you can say in front of him, too."

"If that is your wish," Exeter acquiesced. They both sat down at the table.

"What happened to them?" Mike blurted out before Exeter could even start to talk.

"As you might be aware, Mr and Ms Malfoy were trying to evade being indicted and imprisoned by the current administration for being members of the terrorist group called 'Death Eathers'," Exeter started to explain. "Some of their former members, in this case Ms Malfoy´s own sister Bellatrix Lestrange née Black, her husband and his brother Rudolphus and Rabastan Lestrange as well as the Head Auror Bartemius Crouch´s son Bartemius Jr. took exception to that and broke into Malfoy manor five days ago where upon finding Mr and Ms Malfoy they tortured the two of them in a matter most gruesome before executing them." He cleared his throat again. "It wasn´t a pretty sight, as I´ve been told."

Mike closed his eyes and tried to squash the sadness that welled up within him. He wasn't sad for the elder Malfoys, for he hadn't known them except for the fact that they were literally magical Nazis, so he couldn't really mourn their deaths. Yet, he mourned for little Draco who was barely one year old and would never get to know his parents, except through the tales and memories of others. He grieved for the little boy who was happily gurgling on Trevor´s lap who would always question where he came from and what his legacy should be.

He mourned for a child that was now an orphan and didn't even know what that was.

"So, you´re here to take him?" Mike asked, his chest constricting painfully just at the thought of giving up the boy.

"Oh, no!" Exeter exclaimed. "Quite the opposite, actually. In English Magical Law there exists the construct of the Pater Temporalis. It fell out of use over the last few decades, but before it was used by Pureblood patriarch to declare people outside their family its head until such a time when the heir came of age. I do not know how Ms Malfoy managed to convince her husband, but shortly before their untimely demise, he appointed you as Pater Temporalis for young Draco Malfoy."

"I find that very difficult to believe," Mike managed to stammer out. "I sincerely doubt that Mr Malfoy would appoint me to such a position, even if his life was on the line."

"Well, apparently Ms Malfoy changed his mind," Exeter replied. "I am aware that you come from a Squib branch of the Malfoy family. In the Wizarding World, family means everything and except for you, there is only one eligible relative left to the Malfoys who isn´t dead, incarcerated or on the run from the law, which would be Ms Malfoy´s sister Andromeda Tonks née Black."

"Then why isn´t she the new head of the family?" Mike asked.

"Because while she is the sister of the late Ms Malfoy, she isn´t a Malfoy by blood," Exeter explained. "You are, though, which together with the Malfoy will makes a strong case for you. Besides, Ms Tonks and Ms Malfoy fought on opposite sides of the war. I cannot explain the complexity of Pureblood relations in Great Britain to you, so I will just tell you this: Everyone is related to everyone and hold grudges over the silliest of things. I think Ms Malfoy would rather have her son out of such an environment than with a family that opposed her and her husband politically." He cleared his throat again. "She left a letter for you amongst the documents I will hand over to you. Maybe that will answer your questions." Mike nodded.

"So, what does being Pater Temporalis entail exactly?" he asked. It was easier to focus on the technical aspects of the whole thing, instead of thinking about the fact that he was now responsible for a living, breathing human being that would die without his care. Just the thought of it was enough to make him antsy.

"Well, until young Draco turns seventeen, you are basically the head of the Malfoy family," Exeter replied. "You will have complete access to and control of the family´s wealth as well as its seat on the Wizengamot."

"That´s much responsibility," Mike remarked.

"Oh, it is really not as difficult as it sounds," Exeter assuaged him. "Gringotts administrates the Malfoy´s fortune and, if I may so, does an excellent job at it. If you just leave them be, the Malfoy fortune will continue to grow as it always has." He swallowed. "The Wizengamot seat is another matter, though. As you are no wizard you can´t hold it personally, but a proxy of yours can. But as long as you do not appoint one, it will stay vacant. If you are not interested in politics, that´s fine, but I would advise you nevertheless to look into the matter once you brought everything else in order."

"Is there anything else I should know?" Mike swallowed.

"Well, much of it is explained in the documents I have with me," Exeter replied. "One stipulation of their will, though, was that upon reaching the age of eleven, his parents wished for young Mr Malfoy to attend Hogwarts, School for Witchcraft and Wizardry." Mike nodded. That was understandable.

"Now, I need you to sign a few documents for me," Exeter continued.

Few documents turned out to be over a dozen which Mike had to sign with a quill and his own blood. Quite barbaric, but Exeter assured him that such documents were always signed this way for the blood of every living creature held magical properties and would ensure that the contracts could not be broken.

"I advise you to contract the local Gringotts branch once you have sorted yourself out," Exeter told him kindly as he placed the documents back in his suitcase. "The goblins will explain your financial responsibilities and rights much better than I was able to. Also, with the Malfoy Estate comes its family house elf. You should call him up." The man bid them his farewells and then it was only Mike, Trevor and a by now sleeping Draco left in the flat.

The first thing Mike did after that emotionally draining experience, was to take a cold beer out of the refrigerator and drain half of it in one go. Then he walked over to the couch and let himself fall back on it; not saying anything and just starring at the wall opposite of him.

He was now responsible for another human being. Before…before the Malfoy´s death it hadn't been that daunting, because Mike had known that it was only meant to be for a short while. Just temporarily. At least it was supposed to be. Even if he screwed up, it would have been all water under the bridge the moment Narcissa Malfoy came back and took her son with her, never to see Mike again. But now…now he had to make sure that Draco grew up healthy and happy, all while Mike hadn't even figured his own life out yet.

What if he was a terrible caregiver? What if he screwed the boy up so bad that he would be traumatised for the rest of his life? What if their relationship turned out like his mother and grandmother´s, who hadn't talked to each other for ten years before her death? He just couldn't do this.

"Hey, Mike." Trevor´s voice tore him out of his spiralling thoughts. "I know it´s scary right now. I feel he same and I´m not even the guy some rich ass strangers gave their child to. But I´m gonna be there for you and Jenny will be as well. We managed to make it through life until now, so one baby won´t change that." He gave Mike a shaky smile and even though it didn't change his situation, it succeeded in making Mike feel a little bit better.

"Don´t you wanna read that letter, though?" Trevor asked, nodding towards the single white envelope that laid on their dinner table, its pure whiteness a stark contrast to the countless stains and blotches on the dark wood. "Maybe it´ll ease your mind."

"I doubt it," Mike murmured. Yet, his best friend was right. The piece of paper was the only tangible connection to the past – to what had happened – and to move forward he had to open and read it. Didn't mean he had to like it, though.

Sluggishly, he stood up and made his way towards the table, the letter looming forebodingly like the ring Frodo had to deliver to Mount Doom in Mordor. Carefully, Mike opened it and began to read.

 _Michael,_

 _If you read this letter then it means that my husband and I dwell no longer amongst the living, which also means that as of now you are the Pater Temporalis of the Noble House of Malfoy. There is no need any longer for decorum or property, not now that I am dead, so I will endeavour to be totally honest with you._

 _You may ask yourself why we have chosen you for this task, especially taking into account our beliefs and values that seem to stand in complete opposition to our actions. To this I only have to say that what I told you when I first sought you out still holds true: You are the closest thing to family who is also the furthest away from the political cesspit that the United Kingdom is and always will be._

 _We could have given our son into the care of our so-called allies – the Parkinsons, the Greengrass, the Notts, to all of which there exist weak relations – but like all families of pure standing they first and foremost look out for their own interests, as it is the proper thing to do, but their interests are not the Malfoy´s. In their hand, our son would have been a political tool first and a child with needs and wishes only second, as it would have been if a light family had gotten custody of him. Considering the current political climate in Great Britain that would have been not unlikely._

 _It is difficult to be so open and vulnerable, especially to a person that is virtually a stranger to you, but you need to understand so that you will not resent in the future. I love my son – as does my husband – and I will do anything, so that he may lead a life free of the hardships I had to face. Even though my husband was not very open to the idea, he, too, wants only the best for Draco and if it means growing up with you, then he will swallow his pride and principles and agree. And keeping Draco out of the toxic atmosphere that has taken a hold of the United Kingdoms is the best for him._

 _We only wish the best for our son, even if we cannot be there for him. Begging is underneath a Malfoy, but for him I shall do it anyway: Please, give him the home he deserves and tell him that, even though we will not be in his life, we always have and always will love him._

 _Narcissa Malfoy_

 _Lady of the Most Noble House of Malfoy_

Towards the end of the letter, the lines began to blur as tears began to dwell up in his eyes. This was a mother who knew that she was probably never again seeing her only child and who put him into the hands of a stranger. Whose last resort was to beg for kindness of a man she probably detested. It was so difficult to reconcile the loving parents the Malfoys were with the supremacist they had been. How could you love so much and still have so much hate in your heart?

"You´re alright?" Trevor asked.

"It´s just…" Mike began. "They really loved him, you know? They were literal Nazis but they loved him as much as my parents loved me. It´s just so difficult to have these two sets of people. I wonder how they justified it to themselves. They were so afraid of their son growing up as orphan but were more than willing to kill another child´s parents for their political goals."

"Humans suck," Trevor just commented. "Here, take the baby. You can´t be sad when you´re holding a baby." He stood up from the couch and, ignoring Mike´s protests, out Draco in his arms. The boy looked up at him dozily and let out a few gurgles before he closed his eyes again and snuggled against Mike´s chest.

Trevor was right; holding a baby really lifted one´s mood.

"We need to move," Trevor suddenly commented. Mike looked at his best friend questioningly.

"Come on, Mike, you can´t deny that this apartment is a health hazard," Trevor pointed out. "I mean, it was fine as long as it was only us, but now that you´ve got to take care of a child, you need something bigger. Sooner or later he´s gonna need his own room. Certainly when he starts bringing the ladies home…or the boys."

"We don´t have the money," Mike replied.

"Well, the Malfoys certainly have," Trevor remarked. "And I´m sure that they wouldn't mind their son getting out of this dump."

"You´re gonna come with me, though, won´t you?" Mike asked, suddenly feeling quite anxious at the thought of having to deal with all of this on his own.

"Man, I just told you that I wouldn't leave you hanging," Trevor replied. He scratched the back of his head. "I got offered a job at an IT consulting firm. I would´ve declined because the drugs pay better, you know, but that´s gonna have to stop if I´m around, so I´ll take it."

"You don´t have to," Mike told him. "I mean, take the job; you´re right that the drug dealing has to stop. But like you said, I´ve got the money now."

"I´m no freeloader." Trevor shook his head. "I´m gonna earn my stay." He looked at Mike, a soft smile curling on his face. "We´re gonna make it, Mike."

* * *

There had been two instances in his life when Mike had dreaded to go to talk to his grandmother. The first time was when he had come out to her and hadn't been sure of her reaction (she had been happy) and the second time when he had to tell her that he got expelled from College (disappointment then).

The third time he was standing in front of her house with a baby strapped to his chest that was happily taking in his new surroundings, mumbling undecipherable baby-talk and trying to point clumsily at all the new things around him.

Mike was about to tell his grandmother that he had become a father without even having partaking in the fun part of becoming one. And without someone to raise Draco with, except for Trevor and, maybe, Jenny.

Taking in one last breath to calm his nerves, Mike walked up towards the front door and knocked. He could hear a chair being moved over the floor and then the echo of footsteps drawing near before the door finally opened and gave way to his grandmother. When she saw Mike, Edith Ross' face broke into a wide smile that quickly morphed into an expression of confusion when she noticed little Draco strapped to his chest.

"Well, Michael, that´s certainly a surprise in more than one way," she finally managed to utter. "I think there are some things you need to tell me."

"Yeah, there are some," Mike agreed, scratching the back of his head. His grandmother stepped aside, allowing him to enter the house. Closing the door behind him, she led him into the living room where upon getting Draco out of his baby sling, he placed the boy on the ground while he sat down on the couch, always keeping an eye on Draco because the boy could crawl faster than he looked.

"So, why don´t you tell me why there´s a baby currently crawling on my living room floor?" Well, his Grammy certainly wasn't one to shy way from the hard questions.

"His name is Draco," Mike told her. "Draco Malfoy." For quite a while, his grandmother said nothing, her expression rapidly changing between shook, hurt, anger and finally confusion.

"My husband," she finally spoke. "Your grandfather never spoke much of his family. He came to the US poor and alone and he built himself a life here before we got to know each other. I only learned of the magical world shortly before our marriage and I nearly left him because of it. But I know enough of them to be absolutely certain that they would never give their child to a 'Muggle'." She spat the last word with venomous hate in her voice.

"His parents are dead," Mike explained. "There was a war in Magical Britain, which culled the magical populace, especially the Purebloods. Draco´s parents didn't want him to grow up in a country that just came out of a disastrous war. Even if it meant having him raised by a Mundane." Edith´s gaze softened as Mike told her of Draco´s fate and when she looked at the boy again, her eyes were full of kindness and compassion.

"They named me his guardian," Mike continued. "But I can´t do this alone. I need your help. I know it´s painful and hard, but I really need you." And because he wasn't about playing dirty, Mike added: "He needs you."

"You don't have to try to trick me like that," his grandmother chided him with a sparkle in her eyes. "I don´t blame the child for the sins of his parents or grandparents." At those words a pressure that Mike hadn't known existed until now was lifted from his shoulders and he felt like he could breathe a little bit easier. "Now, let me hold my great-grandchild." Standing up, Mike picked Draco up from the ground and deposited him into Grammy´s waiting arms.

"Hello, my little one," Edith cooed at the little boy. "Welcome to the family."

* * *

Mike was in a sombre mood when he met the Femme Fatales the next time. Trevor, currently in the process of house and/or apartment hunting, had offered to accompany him, but Mike had declined, knowing how much fun the other had looking for a perfect place where they could stay with Draco. It warmed Mike´s heart that Trevor took so well to his role as honorary uncle.

"Has something happened?" Santana asked. Even though she usually was quiet and allowed the others to speak most of the time, Mike had noticed that the other woman was really perspective, even if she didn't share all of her observations immediately.

"Yeah," Mike swallowed. The talk around the table grew silent as all of the attention was focused on him. "A few days ago…I was told that…that Draco´s parents were killed in an accident and they appointed me as his new guardians." Shocked gasps went around the table.

"Oh, honey, I´m so sorry," Barbara said while the others around the table nodded in agreement.

"I had time to work through it," Mike told them. "We didn't really know each other that well, but I hope that I can raise Draco to become a man they could be proud of."

"I´m sure you will," Mikaela assured him. "And we´re all gonna help you, won´t we, ladies?" Everyone nodded in agreement.

"Thanks," Mike replied, a small smile appearing on his face as he witnessed that act of altruism and friendship.

"You are alright, though?" Tracy asked. "Financially speaking."

"What?" she added when she saw the warning gaze Linda sent her. "I have to make sure. I don't want to learn that he squatted in some abandoned building when we could have helped him!"

"I´m not squatting anywhere, Tracy," Mike humoured her. "The Malfoys come from money. I have enough to live comfortably until Draco can take control of it."

"I´m glad to hear that," Helen added. "It may be difficult in the beginning, but I´m sure you´ll get the hang out of it eventually."

* * *

The entrance to the New York branch of Gringotts was on one of the platforms of Wall Street Station. Quite fitting, Mike supposed as he entered a maintenance tunnel that no one else but him was able to see. A simple silver band adorned his right ring finger, courtesy of Exeter & Associates, that allowed him to see through Mundane repelling charms and other illusions that were used to keep the magical and mundane world separated. The law firm had proven itself invaluable, supplying Mike with much needed answers to his questions and documents that he would have never gotten the regular way, such as adoption papers or audit trails for the money the Malfoys had transferred to him. They had also gotten him an appointment with the account manager of the Malfoy estate, something that he hadn't been able to do due to all the other stuff that needed to be done.

The oppressively dark tunnel suddenly gave way to a wide-open cave that was completely lined with the finest marble Mike had ever seen. High columns rose from the grounds to the ceiling, each of them adorned with golden twines that seemed to move whenever Mike wasn't looking at them. His steps echoing through the chamber were the only sounds disrupting the silence and it made Mike aware of how small he was compared to the grandeur of everything around him. Probably an intended effect.

A wide portal was placed at the other end of the hall, both of its wings closed. Mike could make out golden letters on the door, which formed a poem:

 _Enter, stranger, but take heed_

 _Of what awaits the sin of greed_

 _For those who take, but do not earn_

 _Must pay most dearly in their turn_

 _So if you seek beneath our floors_

 _A treasure that was never yours_

 _Thief, you have been warned, beware_

 _Of finding more than treasure there._

Not a very friendly bunch those goblins, Mike thought. Next to the door, almost miniscule in comparison, stood a desk full of parchment, behind which a grim-looking goblin sat, who continued writing even when Mike stood right in front of him.

"Ehm, excuse me, Sir," Mike spoke carefully. The goblin finished his sentence and then looked up at Mike as if he had just killed a kitten in front of him. "I have an appointment with Granraff, regarding the Malfoy account."

"You may enter," the goblin replied and waved towards the doors, which opened soundlessly. Not daring to interrupt the goblin again, Mike tipped his head and walked through the door. Expecting an entrance hall as grandiose as the one behind, Mike was stunned when instead he entered a small office instead. The walls were lined with polished mahogany wood, shelves full of books and scrolls on nearly every wall and a crackling fire behind an opulent desk.

"Every customer is taken directly to the advisor he needs." The chair which back had been turned towards Mike, turned around and the goblin sitting on it send Mike a smile full of teeth. "We don't serve walk-customers here at Gringotts New York." He snipped with his fingers and an additional chair appeared in front of the desk. With a wave of his hand, the goblin beckoned for Mike to take a seat, which he did. "My name is Granraff and I am the Malfoy account manager."

"Mike Ross," Mike introduced himself hastily. "As of now Pater Temporalis of the Malfoy family."

"I am aware," Granraff replied. "And I suppose you are here to review the Malfoy accounts?"

"I´m not here because I doubt Gringotts," Mike assured, assuming that suggesting anything else would earn him the eternal enmity of the goblins. "But as I´ll be responsible for it, I thought it only to be prudent to at least make personal contact with the person on which my financial well-being depends."

"I suppose you want to see a complete list of all assets the Malfoys possess?" Granraff wanted to know.

"Indeed," Mike nodded. "It´d be great if you could forward it to me so that I can go over it. I have a mind for numbers and statistics. But for now, a short verbal overview would be enough as well as an explanation of what exactly I´m able to do in my role as Pater Temporalis."

"Well," Granraff began. "The Malfoy family has shares in nearly every of England´s wizarding ventures, earning them much income and political influence. That is a widely known fact in Britain. What they do not know and what I think is quite ironical, considering the late Malfoy´s political stance, is that at the turn of the 18th century, the then patriarch of the family Septimus Malfoy began to heavily invest in Mundane companies."

"Why would he do that?" Mike couldn't help but ask.

"Septimus Malfoy was looking for a way to strengthen his family´s influence in Magical Britain for which he needed money," Granraff explained. "The Mundane economies around the world were growing exponentially while the magical world stagnated. Septimus Malfoy rightly recognised that in order to grow his family´s wealth he needed to expand its holding outside the magical world. His descendants either did the same or ignored those investments completely. Out of sight, out of mind, as the saying goes." The goblin grinned, showing a full set of sharp teeth. "It is quite ironic that Septimus' descendants would go on to spurn the very thing that enabled their family to eclipse all their rivals."

"It´s quite funny," Mike agreed.

"As long as the designated heir of the family is still underage, your control over the Malfoy assets is absolute," Granraff continued to explain. "Be aware, though, that while you may be able to exert your influence as you wish, young Draco would be well within his rights to prosecute you once he turns seventeen and it turns out you mismanaged the Malfoy finances out of malignant intent."

"Well, seeing as I´m not planning to do that, I think I´m in the clear," Mike replied. Granraff just grunted nonsensically but didn't say anything otherwise.

"Are there any changes you wish to enact on Gringotts investment strategy?" he asked instead.

"No," Mike shook his head. "I don´t plan to involve myself very much with it, to be honest. You seemed to have done very well over the last few decades, so why not just leave you to it?" Granraff´s expression didn't change, but Mike imaged that behind his black eyes the fires of greed had been ignited.

"It´s always a pleasure to do business with someone who values Gringotts' expertise," the Goblin grinned. "Is there anything else Gringotts can provide for you?"

"A map of magical locations in New York would be nice."

* * *

"It´s beautiful," Jenny remarked. Mike had to agree with her: The brownstone Trevor had picked out was very beautiful indeed. Situated in a quite side street on the Upper West Side – as quiet as a street in Manhattan could get – it was nevertheless only a short walk to Central Park. Its façade was warm and welcoming and once you entered, you could see that the previous owner had torn out every wall but those needed for structural integrity in order to create one wide and open space on the ground floor. There even was a small garden with a veranda; for someone like Mike, who had spent the last years in a small apartment this constituted a real luxury.

"It took me ages to find it," Trevor told them, pride colouring his voice. "But I think it´s perfect for Mike and Draco."

"And for you," Jenny pointed out.

"As long as Mike will have me," Trevor shrugged.

"You aren't allowed to move out," Mike laughed. "I need someone I can foist Draco off, do I, Draco?" The boy in Jenny´s arms giggled at him and tried to grab Mike´s nose. "See?"

"I could be convinced to take a room," Trevor replied, making a big show of considering his options, even though all of them knew that he wouldn't refuse Mike.

"You´re sure you don't want to move in, too?" Mike asked Jenny, who was opening the various cabinets in the kitchen with one hand while she held Draco with the other.

"Nah," she replied. "I´m alright where I am. Besides, I don't want to disrupt your bachelor pad." She laughed while Mike poked his tongue at her.

"This is going to chance everything," Trevor mused. "I mean, don´t you sometimes think that your life consists of different chapters, each with a beginning and an ending? I have the feeling that this is the beginning of the 'responsible adult' section of your lives."

"Man, what got you in such a philosophical mood?" Jenny asked, but she did sound more serious.

"I think you´re right, somehow," Mike agreed. Standing with his best friends in the house he was going to buy to raise a baby in, he definitely felt something like the door to the part of his life where he and Trevor lived from day to day, smoking weed and barely scraping by on bike messenger jobs, was definitely over. He didn't know what would come to replace it, but as he looked at Jenny and Trevor bickering, Draco giggling on Jenny´s arm, sunlight streaming through the windows and the muted sounds of the city in the background, he sincerely believed that it would be something good.

Something better.

* * *

 _ **5 Years Later**_

* * *

Mike did not wake up to the chirping of birds outside his window (which would be suspicious anyway, because he lived in Manhattan) or to the smell of a freshly prepared breakfast (which would be even more suspicious because he lived alone with a six-year-old who definitely wasn't allowed anywhere near the stove) nor did he wake up to the sound of the alarm.

What Mike did wake up to was someone jumping up and down on his chest while blabbering unintelligible speech which Mike could not decipher in his half-woken state.

"Wake up, wake up, wake up," the monster that was his child screamed as it began to tear away his blankets. "Wake up, Mike, or we´re gonna be late!" Mike let out a frustrated groan and tried to hide under his pillow, but Draco was relentless and took even that way from him.

"It´s eight in the morning," Mike complained as he looked at the clock on his nightstand. "We´re meeting Trevor and Katrina at two. How many hours until then?" Draco tried to look innocent, but failed miserably at it. "I know you can do the maths, so tell me."

"Six," Draco mumbled.

"Louder!" Mike commanded.

"It´s still six hours," Draco repeated. "But we have to eat breakfast before."

"Six hours?" Mike raised his eyebrows.

"Maybe a big breakfast?" Draco suggested.

"Seeing as I´m awake anyway, I breakfast wouldn't hurt," Mike conceded. Draco threw his fist in the air and ran out of the room, probably to go downstairs and contemplate what he wanted on his pancakes.

Turning around, Mike grabbed his phone from the nightstand and sent a fast message to Trevor.

 _My spawn just woke me up by trying to cave in my ribcage. – MR_

He didn't have to wait long for a reply.

 _At least he sleeps through the night. My spawn started to cry every two hours. – TE_

Mike winced in sympathy. He was so glad that he didn't have to live through that with Draco.

 _We´re still on for later today? – MR_

 _Of course! – TE_

Pushing his phone back on the nightstand, Mike stretched one last time and finally made his way out of the living room. Before he descended the stairs, he took a short peek into Draco´s room. The walls were painted in a muted red (Draco had wanted a scarlet red, but Mike had talked him down as he didn't want to repaint everything once Draco had enough of the bright colour) with a big dragon taking the empty wall space above Draco´s bed. A varied assortment of toys was strewn all over the floor, which reminded Mike that he needed to tell Draco that he had to clean his room before they were leaving.

There were only a few objects that hinted at Draco´s origin and his place in the magical world: A broom leaning against the door of his wardrobe that wasn't meant for cleaning, quite a few books bound in heavy leather that contained the most popular tales of Wizarding Britain and, the boy´s most prized possession, a picture of his parents standing on his desk. The two people in the silver frame while still poised were nevertheless beaming with happiness as they entwined their hands and stole coy glances at each other.

It was the Malfoy´s wedding picture and Mike had gotten it from Exeter after Draco had asked him about his real parents.

Closing the door, Mike made his way downstairs where Draco was already sitting in front of the TV, watching his morning cartoons. Apparently, he had grown tired of waiting for Mike to come downstairs.

"So, who wants some pancakes?"

Six hours, one cleaned room and a thirty-minutes ride on the subway found Mike and Draco in front of a modest apartment building in Park Slope where Trevor, Katrina and their daughter Anna were living on the third floor. Draco was a bundle of barely contained energy as Mike pressed the bell and when the door finally opened, he was already jumping up the stairs while Mike just shook his head fondly.

When he reached the third floor, he could already her Draco excitingly telling Trevor what he had done since they last time they had seen each other while Katrina stood in the doorframe, awaiting him.

"Hi, Mike," she greeted him as she pulled him into a fierce hug, which Mike reciprocated. "Glad you could make it."

"You know that Draco would never miss the chance to see 'the best uncle ever'," Mike grinned.

"While they´re busy, I can catch you up about that matter you wanted me to do some research on," Katrina told him as she walked into the kitchen, Mike following her.

"Something to drink?" she asked Mike, but he shook his head. Pouring herself a glass of water, Katrina sat down on one of the stools and beckoned for Mike to do the same.

"The bidder for the property is Sanders Industry, an umbrella corporation for various smaller firms," Katrina told him.

"But why are they trying to buy a playground on the Upper West Side?" Mike wanted to know. "It doesn't make sense. It´s a residential area."

"On the first glance you´re right," Katrina agreed. "That's why I looked deeper and found something interesting: The properties around the playground are slowly bough up by different firms of the Sanders Group."

"They´re trying to buy everything up without anyone noticing it," Mike realised. "But why?"

"My guess? Redensification," Katrina replied. "You could make a killing by buying those houses and replacing them with multi-storey buildings."

"It´d destroy the character of the whole quarter," Mike remarked. "And that´s why they´re doing it that way."

"There isn´t much you can do about it," Katrina pointed out. "What they´re doing is shady and amoral, but not illegal." Mike rubbed his temples.

"I hope you didn't get into any trouble," he finally said.

"Why would I?" Katrina questioned. "Rand, Kaldor & Zane doesn´t have any dealings with them, so I can tell you whatever I want. They´re represented by Pearson, Specter & Litt, so telling you might even turn out to be beneficial for me." She shrugged and took another sip from her glass.

"Altruism is definitely one of your most prominent traits," Mike joked.

"Hey!" Katrina exclaimed in mock-hurt. "If I wasn't altruistic I wouldn't have married Trevor and have a child with him."

"Speaking of children, how´s my goddaughter doing?" Mike asked.

"I´m sure my husband already told you that she´s keeping us awake at night," Katrina sighed. "If she doesn't become an opera singer, then I don't really know. But during the day, she´s a literal angel."

"It´s going to get better," Mike assured her. "Instead of crying during the night, it´ll be chasing after her all the time because she´ll think that crawling and walking means that the whole world is hers to conquer."

"Yeah, I remember when you couldn't find Draco at our wedding and in the end, it turned out that he was sleeping under the altar because he was bored." She threw back her head and laughed.

"Whatcha talking about?" Trevor entered the kitchen, Draco following closely behind. He walked up to Mike and reached out his arms, obviously expecting for Mike to pick him up.

"You´re growing a little bit too heavy for me," Mike groaned as he bent down and lifted the boy up.

"Never!" Draco insisted. Katrina, meanwhile, had walked up to her husband and kissed him passionately. Draco just made a barfing sound.

"Oh, nothing important," she answered his previous question. "I was just telling Mike that he needs to buy a playground."

* * *

"Mike?" He looked up from the papers he was currently reading to Oliver who just put his head into his office. "There´s a visitor for you."

"And why´re you telling me this instead of showing them in?" Mike wanted to know.

"Well, he looks really…posh," Oliver replied. _Unlike our usual clients_ , was left unspoken, but Mike knew that this was what Oliver was thinking anyway. "Said his name was Exeter."

"Then bring him to me," Mike barked at Oliver. He instantly felt bad for it, but whatever the lawyer was here for, Mike had an inkling that it wasn't good news. Ducking his head, Oliver left his office and came back with the elderly man in tow.

"Mr Ross," Exeter greeted him jovially. Standing up, Mike took the man´s offered hand and offered him one of his chairs to sit.

"What happened?" he asked once everyone was settled. "Usually you send a letter announcing your visit."

"Unfortunately, this news cannot wait," Exeter replied. "A few hours ago, the Wizengamot has approved the Ministry´s demand for disclosure." Mike closed his eyes and let out a sigh. He had hoped that it wouldn't come this far.

"Gringotts and my firm tried to have the notion squashed, but in the end, we were unsuccessful," Exeter continued remorsefully.

"What was the ministry´s argument?" Mike asked, trying to concentrate on the matter at hand. Raging and screaming at the old man wouldn't do anything but destroying their working relationship and when Exeter said that he had done everything he could, then Mike believed him.

"They argued that with the Malfoy´s shares in much of Britain´s economy, leaving its current acting head their anonymity would jeopardise the national security, should said head of house turn out to be an enemy of the state."

"Wow, I´ve never been called that," Mike joked.

"We were able to amend the ministry´s original notion, though," Exeter continued. "Instead of the whole Wizengamot, you will only be required to meet the Minister and the Chief Warlock who will assert whether or not you represent a danger to the national security."

"As if I don't have enough on my plate already," Mike complained. "Who voted which way?"

"Dumbledore´s fraction voted against the notion," Exeter told him. "The business fraction and much of the Pureblood fraction voted for it."

"Do they not realise that they´re creating a precedent for the ministry to stick its nose into their business as well?" Mike asked in astonishment. At the beginning, he had thought that the Purebloods would be the ministry´s fiercest opponents, but after three years of constant legal battles, it turned out that they were its biggest supporter – at least in this matter.

"If there is one thing everyone hates, then it is uncertainty," Exeter replied. "The Parkinsons, Notts, Greengrass and all the others cannot move their plans forward if they do not know how the Malfoy bloc will react. As your Wizengamot proxy, I can tell you that they are all either vexed about or outright angry at your past voting pattern."

"So, what, they think by dragging me out, they can get a measure of me?" Mike asked.

"Basically, yes," Exeter replied. "Then there is also the fact that some of them want to integrate themselves into the Malfoy´s circle of influence via Draco." Instantly, Mike´s mood soured. Using a child for your own means was absolutely wrong and he would punch every person in the face who dared to try it with Draco. He didn't care whether they had magic or not.

"There´s nothing I could do about it?" he asked one last time.

"I´m afraid not," Exeter shook his head. "To be honest, I´m astonished that we managed to hold them off for three years." He pulled an envelope out of his jacket. "You have been served. The appointment will be in seven days' time, at which this letter will turn into an international portkey to the Ministry of Magic, where I shall await you. You are entitled to legal representation and as American citizen and Pater Temporalis of the Noble House of Malfoy cannot be arrested or charged with a crime without the Wizengamot´s approval."

"They can´t take Draco away from me, can they?" Mike asked fearfully.

"No," Exeter replied energetically. "The Purebloods would never go that far and Dumbledore´s fraction wouldn't support it either."

 _Oh joy_ , Mike thought, _that´s gonna be fun._

* * *

Draco Malfoy was a smart, six-year-old wizard.

He knew that his 'real' parents were dead and that they tried to protect him. He also knew that 'real' was the wrong word, because Mike was real, too. The presents he gave Draco on birthdays and Christmas were real; the stories he told Draco before going to bed were real, the encouraging words were real as were the soothing gestures when he skinned his knee.

Mike was as real as his parents.

When he once told Mike that after Ms Jenner from kindergarten has asked him after his 'real' parents, the blonde had just ruffled his hair and told him that he didn't care what other people thought.

Mike was all Draco had ever known, so even if he wasn't his real father, Mike would always be the most important person in his life.

That was also why Draco knew that something was wrong when Mike came to take him home from his playdate with Virginia. Mike didn't say yes to Virginia´s mother Helen when she invited him in for coffee (which he always did!) and didn't smile when the other woman made some joke. Instead he just waited silently for Draco to pull on his shoes and jacket before he took him by the hand and walked with him to the nearest subway station.

There weren't many people in the wagon with him, so Draco dared to ask: "Is something wrong?" Mike tore his gaze from the advert he was currently reading and looked at Draco.

"It´s just some news I got at work today," he told Draco. It confused the boy. Mike was never like that when he came back from the place he worked to help people that couldn't afford fancy lawyers. So, the news he received must have been something different.

"What was it about?" he asked.

"A summon from the ministry," Mike replied.

"What´s a 'summon'?" Draco asked, his brows furrowed in confusion.

"It means that they want me to come to them," Mike answered.

"They aren´t taking me away from you?" Draco asked, suddenly fearful of what was to come. Mike turned around in his seat until he could look straight at Draco.

"They can´t," he said with so much conviction that the fear in Draco´s mind receded. "They won´t. I won´t allow them."

And in this moment, Draco believed him.

* * *

There were three things Harvey Specter didn't want to face when the elevator doors to the floors of Pearson, Specter & Litt opened and released its passengers into the world of subpoenas, confessions and non-disclosure agreements: Louis' ugly mug (which he didn't want to see anywhere, anyway), the letters of his name on the wall not shinning and Jessica already waiting for him, regal and styled to the tee, because the latter usually meant that something big had happened – and usually that meant something bad for them.

"Jessica," Harvey greeted her with his most charming smile. Jessica just tilted her head in greeting.

"Walk with me," she ordered him and because Harvey valued his continued well-being, he did as she told him.

"What happened?" he asked as they passed the reception desk.

"You remember the Sanders deal we´re currently handling?"

"You mean, the deal _I´m_ handling," Harvey quipped back. "And no, I haven't forgotten it since I left my office yesterday at nine."

"Glad to see your memory in such a pristine condition," Jessica replied. "Then you´ll also remember what happens if you don´t manage to pull through with your part of the deal?" By now they had reached her office. Like the gentleman he was, Harvey held the glass door open for his boss and followed her in after.

"We lose a lot of money," Harvey answered as he sat down in front of Jessica´s desk. "Where are you going with this, Jessica?"

"Someone got wind of what Sanders is up to on the Upper West Side and had a judge place a temporary injunction against any activity of Sanders Industry in the area."

"On what grounds?!" Harvey exclaimed. "What they´re doing is perfectly legal!"

"The complainant claims that Sanders' recent activity constitutes reasonable proof that he plans to undertake a large-scale project which might change the quarters' character, which as you know, would make it a case for City Hall," Jessica explained.

"And they would never allow it," Harvey finished for her. "People hate projects that disrupt their lives. The councilmen would fold like wet tissues if they had to decide about it. And even if they were willing to greenlight it, it´d still take years."

"Which is why you´ll do anything to convince the judge that all those acquisitions by different subsidiaries of Logan Industries have been made independently from each other," Jessica told him. "And that there is no 'grand plan' behind any of it."

"Which there is, though," Harvey pointed out.

"Once that final property is bought, our contract with Sanders expires and we can wash our hands off him," Jessica replied. "But until then, you´ll get him that stupid playground."

"Against whom do I have to go up against?" Harvey asked, anticipation cursing through his veins as he imagined himself going up against Zane or Tanner in a battle of wits.

Jessica looked on her paper. "Michael James Ross."

* * *

 _ **One Week Later**_

* * *

If there was a building representing the very notion of grandeur, then it definitely would be the British Ministry of Magic, at least in Mike´s opinion. Yet, while it was undoubtedly a very fine piece of craftmanship, it also extruded an oppressive atmosphere, as if it wanted every visitor to know of the power it wielded over everyone´s lives. The dark marble tiles that lined the hallway where the fireplaces of the Floo Network spew out their passengers swallowed much of the light that was dispersed by the disembodied lights that floated near the ceiling. The hallway didn't seem to have an end, either, at least none Mike could see from where he was.

Apparently, in his awe and contemplation at his surrounding, Mike had forgotten to step aside from the fireplace where he and Exeter had come from and so when the green flames roared to life again and spew out the next person, said person butted right into Mike.

"I´m so sorry," Mike apologised to the dazzled looking man.

"Oh, there´s nothing to apologise for, lad," the man replied jovially. "At least I´m awake now." He eyed Mike up and down. "You´re wearing a Muggle suit. Are you, by any chance, familiar with the Muggle world?"

"Yes?" Mike spoke, more a question than a statement, confused as he was by the man´s nature.

"Perfect!" the man beamed. "Because I really need someone to tell me what a rubber duck does. I have a whole box of them at home trying to figure it out and my wife is really getting quite annoyed at finding them all over the house. My boys quite like them, though, and I´m sure the twins accidently turned them green a few days ago…"

"Excuse us," Exeter interrupted. "But my client and I have an appointment to keep, so if you do not mind, we have to go."

"Ah, of course, of course," the man nodded in understanding. Mike smiled at the man apologetically, but then they had already dived into the crowd and he lost sight of him.

"What a nice man," Mike commented.

"I think it was a Weasly," Exeter spoke. "The current patriarch, maybe? I think his name is Arthus…no, Arthur." By now they had reached the ministry´s foyer where they made their way towards one of the counters behind which a bored looking man sat as he looked down on the people passing him by.

"Wands?" he asked them.

"He´s a MoI and with me," Exeter told the clerk as he handed over his wand. The man spared Mike a single, disinterested glance before he gave Exeter his wand back and waved them through.

"MoI?" Mike wanted to know as they continued their way.

"'Muggle of Interest'. It´s a term for Mundanes that are allowed entry to the ministry, at least temporarily," Exeter explained. "Usually, they´re witnesses who need to be interrogated by the Aurors before being obliviated." Mike swallowed and nodded.

Neither of them spoke as they queued in front of the lifts until it was finally their turn to enter one of the contraptions.

"First Floor: Office of the Minister of Magic," a female voice announced when the doors opened for the first time. Exeter stepped off and Mike followed him. The hallway they were now walking through was a lot less crowded than the area they had come through. Probably because not many had appointments with the leader of Magical Britain.

"The meeting will take place in the minister´s office," Exeter told him as they walked. "Also present will be the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Albus Dumbledore, a senior official of the minister´s whose identity I haven't been made aware of and a keeper of the minutes."

"They´re all bound to professional discretion?" Mike asked. "And the protocol won´t become public domain?"

"I have made sure that both of these conditions are met," Exeter assured him. "Legally, you are as safe as you could possibly be. We are here, now." The door to the minister´s office didn't look much different from all the other doors they had passed by on their way. The only thing distinguishing the door from the others was the number ten that hung there in golden letters.

"Please state your business," the door suddenly spoke, using the same voice as Mike had already heard in the elevator.

"Sir George Exeter and client, here to meet the minister and the Chief Warlock," the lawyer stated. A few seconds nothing happened, but then the door swung open, allowing them entry.

The minister´s office was as opulent as the rest of the ministry: Black marble tiles on the floor, heavy mahogany shelves loaded with books lining one wall while the other was decorated with countless moving pictures of the same man enthusiastically smiling while he shook hands with obviously important people. A green carpet with the golden M of the ministry embroidered on it laid on the ground and at its end a dark oaken desk stood in front of which stood free people; two men and one woman.

The pudgy man in the middle was the same as on the pictures, so Mike assumed that he had to be the Minister of Magic. He didn't look very wise or powerful, especially compared to the man next to him: At least one head bigger, he towered over the minister not only physically but also from the sheer aura he was extruding. Not even the garish orange robe he wore, nor the half-spectacle glasses and long white beard were able to hide that. Unlike the minister, that man looked like the very epitome of the old and wise wizard.

The woman on the left let out a staged cough, which made Mike´s gaze turn to her. She looked like she had jumped straight out of a fifties household commercial. Her whole woollen cloth ensemble was bright pink and her hair was done in such an unfortunate perm that it made her look ten years older at least. Behind the desk to the left, a non-descript young man sat in front of what looked like an ancient typewriter.

"George," the minister exclaimed jovially. He stepped forward and shook the lawyers hand who reciprocated the gesture with the ease of a professional. "So glad you could make it."

 _Not that you gave us much of a chance,_ Mike thought sourly, but when the minister´s attention turned to him, he placed his best smile on his face.

"And this has to be the Pater Temporalis of the Malfoy family," the minister spoke. "I´m Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic. Over there you have Albus Dumbledore, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and this charming lady is Dolores Umbridge, First Undersecretary of the Minister of Magic." In Mike´s opinions there were adjectives better suited to describe the sour looking woman, but he just continued to smile and shook the offered hands.

"Mike Ross," he introduced himself, not even using his full name. The Undersecretary could barely keep her face free of the disdain she felt when he spoke with American accent. Only Dumbledore looked as unflappable as always.

"Since we´re all here because you justified your interference into a Malfoy family matter with national security – by the way, that´s a pretty American move to make – let´s get this over with." From the barely concealed wince that came from Exeter, Mike probably just had blown his strategy to smithereens, but right now he couldn't care less. In front of him where the people who had been after him for three years now, threatening the life he had built for himself and Draco, all in the name of greed and lust for power, even if they called it different.

"You cannot speak with the minister like that!" Umbridge exclaimed indignantly.

"Ah, there surely is no need to get worked up about this, is it," the minister replied flustered. Dumbledore just continued observing them, not having uttered a single word since he had introduced himself. "You have to understand, with the acting head of the Malfoy family unknown, there has been quite the concern amongst the citizen of Britain." Mike doubted that. The ordinary citizen probably didn't care much. "We just had to make sure that Britain and her interests are in no danger from you."

"Then please, ask your questions," Exeter replied evenly. "My client has other appointment he has to keep." That was a bold-faced lie, but it made Umbridge inflate with anger again, so Mike didn't comment. Beside it was always important to appear strong and independent in front of powerful people.

"I think Mr Exeter has the right of it," Dumbledore finally spoke. "As far as I can see, this young man has come at our insistence, so the politest thing to do would be to conclude our business as smooth and painless as possible." Fudge cleared his throat and continued.

"You´re right, Albus, of course," Fudge agreed. "So, Mike –"

"Mr Ross," Mike interrupted.

"– how did you come into possession of the Pater Temporalis title of the Malfoy family?"

"Mr and Mrs Malfoy gave it to me in their will," Mike answered unhelpfully.

"But why?" Umbridge inquired and Mike could only assume that she just couldn't fathom why a respectable family like the Malfoys would even interact with someone like Mike.

"We´re distant kin," Mike replied. "My grandfather was Abraxas Malfoy´s brother."

"I was not aware that he had one," Dumbledore said.

"He emigrated to America," Mike told them.

"So, you went to school in the States?" Fudge wanted to know.

"I did," Mike said, neglecting to mention that it had been a mundane high school. It was somehow funny to let them believe that while he was an uncivilised American, he still was a wizard at least. Umbridge and Fudge would probably throw a tantrum if they found out. Dumbledore didn't look like he cared much either way.

"But why would they look to you when there were candidates more…closer to their home?" Umbridge wanted to know. _Why didn't they choose a respectable pureblood family?_ was what she meant but didn't say.

"Because there wasn't any family left closer to home?" Mike replied.

"Narcissa has a sister here," Dumbledore pointed out.

"It was my understanding that they were practically strangers," Mike said to him. The older wizard let out a heavy sigh, as if the sisters' estrangement was something that affected him personally.

"There is nothing that would invalidate Mr and Mrs Malfoy´s choice of Mr Ross as Pater Temporalis as the Wizengamot Court already found," Exter interjected. "Trying to manipulate my client into admitting that he is unsuited for the position is bad faith and will have consequences."

"What are your plans for the future?" Dumbledore finally asked. "Especially concerning young Draco." While Mike believed that Dumbledore may care for the child´s wellbeing, Fudge and Umbridge probably only cared for the influence and prestige the Malfoy name brought.

"Well, it was his parents wish that he should attend Hogwarts once he turns eleven," Mike spoke. "I plan to honour their wishes, if circumstances allow it." A pointed warning to Fudge and Umbridge. "Otherwise, I don´t have any grand plans concerning the Malfoy´s wealth, if that´s what you´re asking for. I´m completely content with allowing Gringotts and Exeter & Associates to continue managing the Malfoy´s accounts as successfully as the have until now."

"You don´t plan to take the Malfoy´s seat in the Wizengamot?" Dumbledore asked.

"Mr Exeter has done an excellent job so far, don't you think?" Mike replied. "Besides, my whole life is based in New York and I don´t plan to have that change anytime soon."

"You don´t?" Umbridge interjected. Mike just shook his head.

"So, do you think I´m a national security risk?" Mike asked. "Or did I sate your curiosity enough to put an end to this charade?" Umbridge spluttered indignantly, while Fudge and Dumbledore seemed to contemplate what Mike had said.

"It is my opinion that this unnecessary interference, which I was against from the start, has gone long enough and that Mr Ross clearly poses no threat to the interest of the citizens of Britain," Dumbledore announced his decision.

"I still think that Mr Ross is obviously unsuited to his position," Umbridge sneered.

"That is neither your nor the ministry´s decision to make," Exeter pointed out. Umbridge shot him a poisonous glare, but otherwise kept silent. All gazes turned towards Fudge who seemed to wither under the sudden scrutiny.

"I agree with Albus," he finally said. Triumph surged through Mike while Umbridge looked like someone had gutted a kitten in front of her.

"Then our business is concluded here," Exeter spoke. "Let the record show that the ministry hasno further claim on my client and that any further interference in his life will be dealt with all legal means possible."

* * *

It was late evening when Harvey entered one of his favourite bars in Manhattan. The moment he entered the established, the cool air of the outside was replaced by warmth and the smell of wood, beer and meat that sizzled in the small kitchen behind the opulent bar. The person Harvey was meeting with here was already sitting at the counter, sipping at a Cocktail.

"Harvey!" Vanessa exclaimed when she noticed him. Kiss on the right cheek, kiss on the left cheek, then Harvey took the stool next to her. He waved the bartender and ordered himself a scotch.

"You got what I wanted?" he asked the private investigator.

"You´re always work and never fun," Vanessa complained. "What´s so wrong with asking how my day went first?"

"I´ve known you for years and don´t know anything about you," Harvey pointed out. "I´m not 'fun' with you because you´re fiercely protective of your private life and wouldn't tell me anything anyway."

"Touché." The bartender placed Harvey´s scotch in front of him. He took a sip and enjoyed the familiar burn that went down his throat. "And yes, I have what you asked me for. What kind of question is that even? When did I ever not have what you wanted?" She arched his eyebrows at him and Harvey just shrugged. She had him there.

"So, do tell me then," he prodded. Vanessa rummaged through her handbag before she placed a brown folder in front of Harvey.

"Everything I got on your opponent," she said. "I can give you a short summary, if you want." Harvey tilted his head in agreement.

"His name is Mike Ross," Vanessa started and pushed a piece of paper towards him. Harvey supposed the man starring back at him was quite nice to look at it, in a boyish kind of way, with his bright, blue eyes, the short blonde hair and a face bereft of any kind of facial hair. If they met in one of Harvey´s usual hunting spots, he would totally do the guy. "And he´s got a son with whom he´s living on the Upper West Side, near where Sanders is buying up all the property."

"So, it´s personal then?" Harvey asked. It made things both easier and more difficult: Easier, because emotional involvement made people do stupid and risky things, more difficult because they never stopped fighting, even when it became clear that they could not win.

"Not as personal as you might think," Vanessa answered back. "Sanders didn't buy his house and he lives far enough away that it wouldn't affect him that much, so he´s either got a friend he´s helping or he´s just concerned about his neighbourhood."

"He owns his house?" Harvey asked baffled.

"Well, he´s filthy rich," Vanessa replied nonchalantly. "He´s related to some landed nobles in England. They died a few years ago, leaving him as beneficiary of their estate until their son – of which he is the caregiver, by the way – comes of age." She took a sip from her drink.

"So, my usual tactic won´t work then?" Harvey mused.

"I don´t have his financial statements," Vanessa told him. "That´s a little bit too hot, even for me, but from what I could gather, he´d able to pay for his action long enough to make the whole thing go sour."

Harvey sighed. Usually, in cases like this, he liked to negotiate a settlement that left both sides satisfied and out of the eye of the public, but if this Mike Ross had the money to see this suit through, then no amount of money Harvey could throw at him would make him go away.

"What´s his legal background, if he´s doing this by himself?" he asked instead.

"Some online college courses," Vanessa told him and Harvey gave her his best 'are you shitting me' expression. "No, for real. He took a few classes, just enough so that he could take the bar and then he passed it with one of the best scores in its history. Boy´s some kind of genius, for sure."

"But he doesn´t have any real experience, does he?" Harvey wanted to know.

"I´ve written down every case of his in there –" she pointed at the folder she had given Harvey "- but in short: He´s working at a local law clinic and does quite a good job at it, too."

"There´s a difference between helping someone out of a parking ticket and a high-profile case such as this," Harvey pointed out.

"As you say," Vaness shrugged. "You´ll wire me my payment?"

"Same as always," Harvey agreed. Vanessa took her handbag and stood up. "Have fun with your hearing," she called over her shoulder as she strutted out of the place like she owned it. Harvey just leaned back and smiled.

Some things never changed.

* * *

"Why aren´t you nervous?" Helen asked Mike as they stood in the marble hallway of the courthouse, waiting for their hearing to start. The others were there, too, in order to support their friend who was the only one of them affected by the Sanders Group´s encroachment on the Upper West Side.

"Because being nervous doesn't change anything," Mike replied, not willing to admit that – contrary to what he claimed – he was indeed quite nervous. He had never worked on such a big case before, not against someone who could afford the very best lawyers New York had to offer. Mike had no clue how he would fare against anyone Sanders would be able to pay.

"It´s gonna be alright," Langying assured everyone. "And even if it doesn't, we´ve got our children with sitters, so we can get roaring drunk afterwards." Murmurs of agreement went through the group.

"Should Mike fail – which he won´t – we´ll all pitch in for a new apartment for you," Linda told Helen and Mike wasn't quite sure if she was serious or just trying to calm the woman down.

"Thanks," she replied with a faint smile. She wanted to add something else, but in this moment the doors to the courtroom was opened by one of the bailiffs. The women took place on the benches while Mike went to one of the tables in front of the of the judge. He was just about to wonder where Oliver was, when the man came sprinting through the door, obviously out of breath, and took place next to Mike.

"Sorry," he mumbled as he put their documents on the table. "My subway got cancelled and I had to take the bus."

"At least you´re here now," Mike replied. There was movement to his right and when he turned his head he saw that Sanders and his council were taking their places at the table right of him. Mike had to admit that Sanders' lawyer made for a striking figure in his what seemed to be tailored three-piece-suit that accented his broad chest while still somehow managing to make him look slimmer that Mike was sure he was. Mike looked down on his skinny tie and felt somehow underdressed in the other man´s presence.

"He´s some hot piece of ass," Linda mouthed from the benches behind him. Mike had to fight the redness creeping up his neck.

"And what an awesome ass it is," Mikaela agreed.

"That suit does things to me…" Santana leered and this time Mike couldn't help the blush that crept on his face. The lawyer seemed to somehow sense what the women were gossiping about and winked at them. He could hear all of them giggling like teenage girls.

"You´re married," he hissed at Santana. "And you´re gay!"

"Doesn't mean I can´t appreciate him, does it?" Mikaela shrugged. Before Mike could reply anything, the bailiff´s voice echoed through the hall: "All rise for her Honour, Judge Brown."

Everyone stood up as the judge entered through one of the side doors and took her place at the head of the room. Mike had done excessive research on all the judges that could have presided over this hearing and out of all of them, Brown was his favourite. She had a strong history of favouring people over corporations, sustainability over short-lived profit seeking. He was pretty sure that he could convince her of his point of view if the opposing council didn't have some surprise hidden up his sleeve.

 _The game is one,_ he thought.

* * *

 _That could have gone better,_ Harvey thought drily to himself as he watched Sanders walk around like an agitated animal.

"How could you just let them extend the injunction permanently?" he hissed at Harvey.

"I didn't allow them anything," Harvey shot back. "Maybe you should have thought about it before you bought up all those properties without proper permit." Going by the scowl marring Sanders' pretty face, he didn't like being reminded that he was partly at fault as well.

"They placed a moratorium on me," he said instead.

"I know," Harvey replied. "I was there, too. It could have been worse, though."

"How?" Sanders wanted to know.

"She could have dissolved the purchase contracts and leave you right where you started," Harvey told him. "You still have the properties and I´m sure with enough lobbying you could get City Hall to change the zoning map."

"That could take me years," Sanders scowled. "I should fire you and replace you with somehow who can actually do the job I gave him."

"But you won´t," Harvey spoke, totally self-confident. "Because you know I got you the best deal possible, even if you don´t like it. I´m the best you can buy and everyone else out there would tell you the same. So, take this as some character building exercise and stop fretting over it." Sanders sent him one last contemptuous glare before he snatched his briefcase and stormed out of the room.

Harvey rubbed his temples, closed his eyes and let out a sigh. Jessica wouldn't be happy about this, even though he couldn't fathom how she had expected him to win this. It had been a lost case from the start, but at least Sanders wasn't firing them; Harvey was pretty sure about that.

He collected himself and then he, too, left the room, heading for the exit when he saw Ross and his gaggle of middle-aged women standing on the side of the hallway, talking animatedly to each other.

Suddenly an idea came to Harvey and he grinned predatorily at the thought of it. Determined, he walked up to Ross until the man noticed him and turned around.

"How may I help you, Mr Specter?" the blonde asked, while the women eyed him with a calculating glint in their eyes.

"You can do me a favour and go out to dinner with me," Harvey replied, putting on his most charming smile. Ross' jaw dropped while one of the women let out a whistle.

"He´ll accept," the Hispanic woman told him. She pulled a post-it block out of her bag and wrote something down on it. "Here´s his number. Text him the place and he´ll be there." Harvey snagged the post-it out of her hand and while Ross seemed to have caught himself and starts spluttering something unintelligible, Harvey put on his best smirk and sauntered out of the building.

He still had it.

* * *

"What was that?" Mike hissed at his friends as Specter disappeared through the courthouse doors.

" _We,_ " Tracy emphasised. "just got you a date."

"A hot date," Mikaela added with a wink.

"What made you think I even wanted that?" Mike asked exasperated. His question was answered with a round of disbelieving looks.

"Bitch please," Linda finally responded. "You drooled over him just as much as we did. So, why won´t you just go out with him and enjoy yourself?"

"I´ve got Draco," Mike protested weakly.

"Nobody suggested that you introduce him to your child, Mike," Barbara assured him. "But we´ve known you for years now and you´ve never had something serious, or even a fling as far as we know." She looked at him encouragingly. "I, too, had my dates, but that doesn't mean that I introduced them to Charlotte or something. Just enjoy yourself and if it doesn't go anywhere, you still get nice company and maybe some sex out of it."

Mike knew that his friends were right. Just because he had Draco and his work at the law clinic didn't mean that he was supposed to live like a priest. It was just a nice shield to hide behind, because he was well aware that he wasn't the type to do a string of flings. He was more a commitment kind of guy, but that didn't mean that he couldn't enjoy a nice dinner.

And, well, Specter was a very attractive man to look at.

"Alright," he finally agreed. "But I won´t tell you anything."

* * *

He shouldn't have agreed to Specter´s proposal Mike cursed inwardly as he stumbled through his bedroom in search of something to wear.

"Why is what you´re wearing so important?" Draco asked, sitting on his bed with his blanket flung over his shoulders. He looked like a sage dwarf or something, having come to advise Mike on his choice of clothing. "Just wear your pyjamas, they´re comfortable and they´ve got stars on them."

It said much about Mike´s state of mind that he was seriously considering going with Draco´s suggestion.

"I can´t," he replied instead. "I have to wear something nice." Draco crunched up his nose.

"That´s stupid," he proclaimed. "If he doesn't like you in your PJs then you shouldn't meet him."

"Nice sentiment, buddy," Mike laughed and held up his hand for a high five, which Draco happily provided.

"You should wear a skinny tie," Draco suggested. "I like them."

"Which one?" Mike asked as he opened the clothes closet door and too in his quite impressive collection of skinny ties that he had accumulated over the years.

"I like the blue one," Draco told him. "Or the green one."

"Great suggestion," Mike agreed and tried to decide which of the few dozen blue and green ties he should wear. He finally decided on a light blue one that, according to Linda, went great with his eyes.

"Does he like spiders?" Draco suddenly asked.

"I don´t know," Mike answered while he put his tie on in front of the mirror. "It wasn't something that came up in the talks we had."

"You should ask," Draco asked. "If he doesn't like Arabella then he isn't allowed to hug you." Arabella, the huge, freaking terrifying tarantula that Draco kept in his room and that Mike was always afraid to find in his bed.

"If he doesn't like spiders then I´ll break off our meeting immediately," Mike promised. He could hear the door downstairs open and someone entering the house, disposing their keys in the bowl on the cabinet next to the door.

"We´re upstairs!" Mike shouted, already knowing that it must be either Katrina or Trevor as he had asked them to babysit Draco while Mike went on his date. He could hear footsteps on the wooden staircase and then Katrina was standing in the doorway, taking in the sight in front of her with a fond smile.

"You´re still not finished?" she asked with raised eyebrows. "You´re date is in about two hours."

"I needed to have my question catalogue confirmed with Draco," Mike told her earnestly. "I need to ask Specter after his favourite music, colour and ice cream and whether he likes spiders or not." He shrugged. "Draco´s very thorough."

"I can imagine," Katrina replied, smiling.

"Where´s Uncle Trevor?" Draco asked, looking around as if he expected Trevor to jump out from under the pile of dirty clothes.

"Still circling the bloc in search for parking space," Katrina said. "Anna´s with him."

"You should have taken the subway," Mike told her. "I´m gonna be back before he finds something in walking distance from here."

"He did once!" Katrina retorted.

"Yeah, as you two keep telling me," Mike snorted. "But for every time he found a parking spot, there´s hundred times when he didn't."

"Instead of destroying the illusion of invincibility I have of my husband, why don´t you finish dressing up so that I can tell you if you´re allowed to leave the house," Katrina said to him. Mike held up his hands in mock-surrender and put the finishing touches to his outfit.

"Do I pass?" he asked the two people in his bedroom who eyed him critically. Katrina and Draco exchanged glances and then, as if they had some sort of secret communication going on, Katrina stood up, walked up to Mike and tousled his hair.

"Better?" she asked Draco.

"Better," he agreed.

"Now you look like you´ve just stood up from bed," Katrina told him, her suggestive smile conveying what she really meant by that but didn't dare to say in front of Draco.

"I´m finally here!" Trevor suddenly shouted from downstairs. Happy gurgling could be heard, as well, which meant that he had Anna with him.

"Come, let´s go downstairs," Mike suggested. Draco hopped from the bed and ran downstairs while Katrina and Mike followed at a more moderate pace.

Downstairs Anna was sitting in one of the armchairs that Mike had gotten off Craigslist, giggling happily while Trevor had Draco on his arms and was swirling the boy around.

"Hey, Mikey," he exclaimed when he noticed the two of them standing on the stairs. "You look great. Really rocking that bedhead look."

"Well, your wife gave it to me," Mike shot back, earning him a laugh from his friend.

"You´ll be good for your aunt and uncle," Mike told Draco who nodded at him earnestly. "They know what you´re allowed and what not, so don´t try to trick them." Draco nodded again.

"Mike, we´ve done this often enough, so you don´t have to worry," Katrina pointed out. "You should be going instead." Steering him towards the door, she handed him his wallet, phone and coat. Before Mike even knew what was happening, he was already standing on the sidewalk with Trevor, Katrina and Draco standing in the doorway, waving him goodbye.

"Have fun!" Katrina exclaimed.

"But not too much!" Trevor shouted. Mike flipped him the finger, but then he started walking towards the subway station at 96th Street Station. Specter had texted him with reservations for some quaint little Italian in Hell´s Kitchen, so Mike got off at 50th Street and walked the rest of the way until he found the restaurant in a quiet side street (as far as streets could be quiet in the middle of Manhattan). The waiter took his coat and led him towards a table for two, at which Specter was already sitting.

Even under the dim, yellow light, Specter looked irresistible: He had lost his vest and tie, but his shirt snug to his body in a way that left just enough room for Mike´s imagination to run wild and the way he looked at Mike made him feel like Red Riding Hood in front of the big bad wolf.

"Skinny tie, really," was Specter´s greeting.

"It was chosen for me," Mike replied. "And really, I thought you´d be more of a gentleman, Mr Specter."

"Call me Harvey," the man replied and as if he wanted to proof Mike wrong, he stood up and pulled back Mike´s chair so that he could sit down.

"I revise my former statement," Mike conceded. The waiter came back and took their order for drinks. Despite having enough money to theoretically collect quite an impressive wine collection, Mike barely knew the difference between red and white (the colour, obviously), so he pretended like he was studying the menu and then chose the same Harvey did.

"You have to answer a question that´s been bugging me ever since yesterday," Mike began.

"And what would that question be?" Harvey wanted to know.

"Why did you ask me out? That was pretty bold of you."

"Well, how´s the saying go? Fortuna favet fortibus?" Harvey replied. "You really impressed me at court."

"I literally trounced you," Mike bragged. Harvey just raised his eyebrows.

"The case was already lost before we stood up for the judge," he admitted. "Even a first year from community college would have won that."

"Well, I didn't go to a community college," Mike pointed out.

"Yeah, you took online classes," Harvey replied.

"My, my, Harvey, did you have me investigated!?" Mike exclaimed mock-scandalised.

"I would´ve been a bad lawyer if I hadn't," Harvey replied unapologetically. "Still, I wonder how you were able to pull all that off."

"What if I told you I consume knowledge like no one you´ve ever met?" Mike boasted.

"I´d say you´re full of crap," Harvey shot back without missing a beat.

"Ask me something law related. Anything."

"Civil liability associated with agency is based on several factors, including-" Harvey began.

"Including the deviation of the agent from his path, the reasonable interference of agency on behalf of the plaintiff and the nature of the damages themselves," Mike finished the sentence.

"How did you know that?" Harvey asked shocked.

"I learned it," Mike answered cheekily.

"Okay, hotshot," Harvey said, Mike feeling a thrill of anticipation cursing through him like he hadn't felt in years. "I´m gonna show you what a Harvard attorney can do. Pick a topic."

"Stock option backdating."

"Although backdating options is legal, violations arose related to disclosures under RIC section 409A," Harvey recited.

"You forgot about Sarbanes-Oxley," Mike commented.

"The statute of limitations renders Sarbanes-Oxley mute post-2007," Harvey replied.

"Well, not if you can find actions to cover up the violation as established in the Sixth Circuit May 2008." Harvey looked impressed and somehow that made Mike feel quite proud. How odd, he had barely spent half an hour with the man and he was already eliciting such emotions from Mike.

"I´m impressed," Harvey admitted. "So, I have to ask why you aren't working at a prestigious law firm instead of a law clinic."

"I don't have to worry about money," Mike explained, "but all of the people who come to us have to. I want to help people who really need that help, instead of helping rich people get richer or help them screw over those more unfortunate than them."

"That sounds like an accusation," Harvey replied.

"It isn´t," Mike assured. "I don´t know you enough to judge you or work you do. That´s why I agreed to go out with you."

"As far as I remember it was one of your friends who agreed for you," Harvey pointed out. Before Mike could retort something, the waiter came and took their orders.

"So, now let´s turn the tables and talk about you a little bit," Mike suggested. "Impress me, Mr Specter."

"Well, I´m name partner at Pearson Specter & Litt," Harvey replied with pride obvious in his voice. Mike had to admit that it really was something you could take pride in. He certainly would, too. "I have a secretary who´s too noisy for her own good, a colleague who´s either gonna stab me or confess his undying love to me one day and a boss who could murder the president and get away with it because everyone´d be too afraid to arrest her."

"Sounds interesting," Mike chuckled.

"It is," Harvey agreed. "It´s like some kind of dysfunctional family, you know? Always out for each other, but in the end they´ll stand by you."

"Yeah, I get what you mean," Mike replied. "Some of the guys at the law clinic hate my guts, because I´m rich and think I´m only doing this because I´m some bored trophy wife, but when someone comes after our clients we close ranks faster like no one else."

"Why did you choose that particular law clinic?" Harvey wanted to know.

"Because they tried to sue me," Mike admitted. Harvey´s jaw dropped.

"How did that happen?" he asked.

"It´s a long story," Mike admitted. "A woman slipped in front of my house and broke her leg, which rendered her unable to do her job. She needed the money, though, so they tried to prove that it was my fault in order to make me pay her damages. They lost, but I paid anyway because I don't want anyone to be unable to provide for their children."

The waiter brought their food and while eating they continued their amicable conversation. Mike enjoyed himself immensely, for Harvey engaged him on a level that only a few of his acquaintances did (and for all her qualities, Mike just didn't feel that way about Katrina). It wasn't really a battle of wits, not quite that antagonistic, but Harvey challenged him while simultaneously making him laugh. The way his eyes lit up when he talked about a subject he was passionate about – law, music, baseball – made Mike´s chest in a way he hadn't felt in years. He wanted to trace those laughing lines on Harvey´s face that made him look even more handsome; wanted to discover what else would put a laugh on his face. It was nice and special and even though Mike knew that it wouldn't last forever, he wanted to enjoy this as long as he could.

But as much as he wanted to, Mike couldn't stop the progression of time and sooner than he wanted they had eaten the last piece of bread and drunk the last sip of wine. Despite Mike´s protest, Harvey paid the whole bill and then all of a sudden, they found themselves on the street, the city lights shining on around them, people and cars passing them by.

"My condo is only a few blocks away," Harvey hinted. Mike knew what the other man meant: If Mike wanted he could go home with him and end the night on a high note. And to be fair, Mike wasn't really averse to agree to Harvey´s invitation; the last few times he had had sex were meaningless one night stands he snuck in whenever Draco wasn't at home. And to be fair, he didn't expect Harvey to be any different: good, meaningless sex that ended with the morning sun. No one wanted to be tied down to a single man raising a child that wasn't even his (even though Draco was his, maybe not biologically, but in spirit), so why would Harvey be any different? But until then…

"I´d like that," Mike replied, smiling coyly. To hell with dating etiquette, he would have sex whenever he wanted and not after an arbitrary number of dates.

"Fantastic," Harvey said. The way he regarded Mike now – there was something primal behind those brown eyes, something that hadn't been there before and it made Mike shiver even under his coat. They started to walk towards the apartment building Harvey seemed to live in, neither of them speaking, just basking in each other´s presence. Mike could sense Harvey next to him; imagined he could feel the heat coming off the other man. Every now and then Harvey´s hand would brush against his, sending shots of electricity through Mike´s arm.

He hadn't felt like this in years, to be honest. It thrilled and terrified him equally.

"We´re here," Harvey said. They were standing in front of a modern looking apartment complex that rose at least fifteen floors into the night sky.

"Where´s yours?" Mike asked.

"Condo on the top floor," Harvey answered as he held open the door for Mike. They made their way towards the elevators and when its door closed and it was just him and Harvey a shudder ran down Mike´s spine.

"Do you know how much restraint it cost me to keep myself from just tearing those clothes off you?" Harvey suddenly whispered, his breath ghosting over Mike´s neck. Suddenly the temperature in the enclosed space seemed to rise indefinitely. When Mike looked at Harvey he could see that the other man´s pupils were blown wide, his eyes nearly black but for a small ring of brown. Mike felt like the defenceless prey in front of the mighty predator, but he liked it.

"I really wanna kiss you," Harvey whispered.

"Then what are you waiting for?" Mike challenged him. The last word hadn't even left his lips when Harvey´s mouth was already on his. There was nothing chaste about this kiss – nothing demure, nothing innocent – it was pure, undiluted desire that expressed itself. Mike could taste Harvey on his tongue, a feeling he couldn't put into words, but that felt so right nevertheless. They kissed like drowning mean grasping for air, no finesse, no technique, just fierce and primal and it could have gone on forever if the elevator doors didn't suddenly open with a ring.

Mike followed Harvey wordlessly, fearing that his voice would leave him if he tried to speak and from the look of it Harvey was experiencing the same. They had barely passed into Harvey´s condo (Mike would have to have a look around later on, when he wasn't about, you know, get laid) when Harvey pressed Mike against the wall and showered his throat with kisses.

"Harvey," Mike whispered energetically. He could feel the other man´s hard arousal press against his thigh and his own cock was hard as rock as well. "Harvey."

"I was imagining this since I first saw you at court," Harvey spoke as he untied Mike´s tie and threw it somewhere on the floor. "How you would look laid out on my bed, those blue eyes begging me to fuck you." The first buttons of his shirt were opened and Mike´s breath hitched when the cold air of the condo touched his skin. "I bet you´re a screamer, aren´t you?"

Mike wanted to reply – say something, anything – but then Harvey´s tongue was circling his nipples, running over his torso in a pattern that only Harvey was privy to. Wherever it went it sent shockwaves through Mike´s body, sparks of electricity that shot through his veins and made him weak in the knees.

Suddenly there was a hand on Mike´s crotch, fumbling with his belt, until it finally unbuckled. Mike nearly forgot to breath when Harvey sank down on his knees and just looked up at Mike, catching his gaze and not averting it while he pulled down Mike´s boxers until his aching cock finally sprung free.

Mike nearly came there and then when Harvey – not breaking eye contact for even a split second – began to suck at his balls, working them with his tongue as if it was the best candy he had ever gotten. It was Mike who closed his eyes and let his head fall back with a loud groan as Harvey worked his tongue up to the tip of his shaft.

Mike could imagine no greater bliss than when Harvey´s mouth finally engulfed his cock and he began to blow Mike in earnest. Pleasure was pooling in his stomach and he had to keep himself from just thrusting forward and probably chocking Harvey. The man´s tongue was a work of magic, the way it twisted and looped around his cock and took Mike higher and higher than he had ever been before.

"Harvey," Mike managed to press out, simultaneously a warning that he couldn't keep up any longer but also a plead for more. Harvey seemed to understand, nevertheless, for the warmth surrounding Mike´s cock receded and when Mike opened his eyes the man was standing in front of him again, breathing heavily and his once pristine shirt crinkly and soaked with sweat.

"Bedroom´s over there," he told Mike and pointed towards the door at the end of the hallway. On the way there, Mike´s tie and shirt were joined by the rest of his clothes and when they finally entered the bedroom Mike wasted no time and flung himself on the bed, turning around to watch Harvey. The layer stood in front of the bed, still fully clothed and starring at Mike like he couldn't believe he was real.

"Just like in your imagination?" Mike teased, stroking himself.

"No," Harvey replied. "Better." Then he started to unclothe himself and Mike couldn't help but stare as stretch after stretch of skin was being exposed in front of him. What had already been hinted before turned into reality in front of his eyes: Harvey was well-built, the epitome of elegance and strength, every single muscle honed to perfection, like a well-oiled machine.

"Like what you see?" he asked and Mike could do nothing but nod. Harvey walked to one of the cabinets and when he turned around there was a small bottle of lube in his hand. In anticipatory obedience Mike spread his legs and he couldn't help but shudder when Harvey´s cold fingers started to circle his hole.

He let out a small gasp when the first finger breached him and Harvey began to spread him.

"You look so good," Harvey murmured. "Spread out for me, my name on your lips." Another finger joined the first one. "I´m gonna make you scream my name the whole night, make everyone know that you´re mine." Harvey´s thrust became faster. "After me there´ll be no one who´ll ever satisfy you like I did." A third finger. Mike pressed back, needed Harvey deeper inside him, but the bastard just pulled back, making Mike chase for more but never reaching it.

Mike let out a disappointed whine when Harvey pulled back his fingers, but he was soon rewarded when Harvey lined up his cock at Mike´s hole and pushed in slowly. It was the best kind of torture Mike had ever experienced and it was only eclipsed by the feeling when Harvey finally started to thrust fast and hard into him.

Pleasure was cursing through his veins, making Mike feel like his whole body had been set on fire, as if his blood was boiling in his veins, burning away everything but the lust he was feeling. When he looked up at Harvey hovering above him he could see every drop of sweat glistening on the other´s skin, could see every hair, every line on his skin. It felt like they were one being, connected beyond anything they had ever experienced. When Mike closed his eyes he could see supernovae exploding on the back of his eyelids and every move of Harvey felt like he was being engulfed by hot lava.

Mike didn't want it to end. He wanted to stay in this space in-between forever, just him and Harvey and the waves of pleasure upon which he travelled through this other dimension. There was no one beside them and what they could give to each other and to Mike it felt perfect. Complete.

But like all things perfect this, too, was naught but an illusion and with one last thrust into his body Mike came, his pleasure tearing through him like a hurricane. Harvey followed soon after, spending himself inside Mike and falling beside him onto the bed as if any remnant of strength had left his body.

For quite a while the only sounds penetrating the air around the was their heavy breathing and the noise of the city outside, muted by the thick glass windows. Coming down from this incredible high left Mike feeling wrung out and completely spent, but in a good way.

"That was incredible," he whispered and next to him Harvey preened like a cat.

"Glad to hear that," he replied. He just laid there, giving Mike no indication as to what he should to: Was he allowed to fall asleep? Should he just leave, walk the walk of shame? Did Harvey even want him here anymore or was he waiting for Mike to realise that he should be gone by now?

"Just stay," Harvey whispered into his neck as if he knew what Mike was thinking. He slung his arms around the other man, pressing Mike closer to his chest. He could feel Harvey´s heart beat against his back, a slow and steady thrumming that helped Mike to relax. "Just for the night."

And Mike stayed.

* * *

When Mike came to himself the next morning he didn't know where he was at first. The bed was wider than his own, the view from the windows completely different, the furniture sleek and modern whereas his own was antique and cosy. His body was aching all over, but in a good kind of way, which reminded him of what exactly had transpired the night before.

Harvey wasn't in the bed with him. He must already be awake, Mike thought as he stretched himself, making his joints pop. He made his way towards the ensuite bathroom where fresh towels and his clothes were already laid out. Harvey really was a gentleman.

After a short but exquisite hot shower Mike finally felt presentable enough to leave the room and take his first steps into Harvey´s condo without the man himself to distract himself. The same taste of furniture that had already been present in the bedroom – modern, sleek, _cold_ – continued in the hallway which whole front was made of glass and offered a view onto the courtyard. There were a few abstract paintings on the wall to his right, but they were bereft of any kind of personality, as if they had been hung by a realtor in a desperate attempt to make the flat look more personal.

Finally, the hallway gave away for the big living area. A big leather couch was taking much of its space, a fireplace right next to it. It was here that Mike finally found Harvey, standing in front of the stove in his shiny white kitchen that looked so immaculate that Mike doubted that it was even used that often.

"Pancakes?" Harvey offered, holding up a plate with the promising sustenance. It was only now that Mike noticed how hungry he actually was.

"Great sex and great food?" Mike joked. "Are you some kind of Greek god?"

"No," Harvey replied. "I´m better." Mike raised his eyebrows at the other man but didn't reply anything, instead choosing to munch on the pancakes, which were actually quite good. Superb even.

"I should get going," Mike said reluctantly after he had finished eating, while Harvey just stood there and watched him. Not in a creepy way, just…observing.

"You´re ever willing to go for another round?" Harvey asked and somehow the self-confident and suave way he said it made Mike want to pull him back into his bedroom.

"Call me and find out," Mike replied. "And by the way, what´s your opinion on tarantulas?"

"My brother had one," Harvey replied in stride. "He named it Harvey."

Mike´s lips stretched into a smile. "See you around."

* * *

When Mike finally entered his home, Katrina was already awaiting him, sitting on the couch prim and proper in a black pencil skirt and a white blouse, not a single strand of hair out of place. And even though her expression showed nothing, Mike felt judged. Just a little bit.

"Is that coffee?" he asked, pointing at the steaming cup that she held in one hand. Wordlessly, she handed him the cup.

"So, Mike," she finally spoke, and he knew that he was fucked by the way she emphasised his name. "Tell me about your date." It was more of an order than a suggestion.

"It was fine," Mike sidestepped the issue.

"I think it was more than fine if it made you stay away for the night," Katrina remarked.

"You could say that."

"There´s just one thing I need to know," Katrina spoke.

"What?" Mike asked, somehow feeling like standing in front of a speeding train.

"Does Specter look really as fine under his suit as he does in them?" The way her expression didn't change even for split second while asking that, threw Mike completely off the loop and so he just gaffed at her.

"What?!" Katrina exclaimed. "Do you really think I´m some kind of prude? I´m married to your best friend!" Point to her, Mike guessed. "We had this threesome once…"

"Okay, I really don´t need to know that one," Mike drowned her out. Katrina just smiled smugly and took a sip from the second cup of coffee that stood on the table.

"And yeah, he´s really fine under all those layers," Mike finally gave away. "And the things he did with his tongue…" Katrina nearly choked on her coffee.

"Well, two can play that game," Mike crooned vindictively. "By the way, where are Trevor and Draco?"

"At work and in kindergarten," Katrina replied. "Where I have to be, too."

"In kindergarten?" Mike joked. Katrina just threw him her worst glare.

"I´m happy for you, you know," she said and Mike just knew that what was to come now would be serious, because Katrina was never one for heartfelt confessions. "But I hope you know what you´re doing."

"It´s just sex," Mike told her. Katrina just looked at him like she knew that he was lying not only to her but also to himself. Thankfully, she didn't pursue the subject any further. Instead she stood up and gathered her stuff before she turned back to Mike: "There´s still some left-over take-out in the fridge. And get some sleep, you look like you just crawled out of a dumpster after you died there." Mike saluted her. Katrina just flipped him off and then left the house to go to work, while Mike did heed her advice and went upstairs into his bedroom.

He was out the moment he hit the covers.

* * *

It wasn't as if Mike´s life changed overnight after that date with Harvey – and the hot sex that had followed afterwards. Both of them were busy people – Harvey with his job as name partner and Mike with being a parent and helping out at the law clinic – and it wasn't like either of them turned into love-sick puppies after their first kiss, so they went nearly two weeks before Harvey called Mike up again.

"I have a client who claims that they were fired because they refused their boss' sexual advances at work," Harvey started when Mike picked up the phone while he sat on a bench in Central Park next to Linda and Langying watching their children play on the playground. "But I can´t prove it."

"Nice to hear of you, too, Harvey," Mike greeted the other man.

"I know that it´s nice to hear of me, so there´s no need to say it," Harvey replied smugly. Mike let out a small cough which earned him two curious stares from the women next to him.

"He´s a man in power," Linda, who was a freaking witch who could understand everyone´s phone conversations even at a table in a crowded restaurant, stated.

"You´re right!" Mike exclaimed. "Harvey, you need to look if there were other women who have been fired before her and ask them if he tried to pull the same stunt with them, too. If you can prove a pattern…"

"…then I can get my client a nice enough settlement so that she and her child won´t get evicted from their apartment," Harvey finished for him. "Nice job, Mike." He didn't know why, but somehow Harvey´s praise made something warm flutter in his stomach. "You don´t have any free time at your hands, do you?"

"Well, when should I have that free time?" Mike asked.

"Tomorrow evening. I´ve got some premium seats for Wicked. I know the owner of the Gershwin theatre," he boasted.

"Well, who could say no to free Broadway tickets?"

"Great, I have my driver pick you up at six." And then Harvey had already hung up. Bedazzled, Mike stared at his phone until a smile spread on his face and he put it back into the pocket of his jacket.

"You´re so gone," Langying told him.

"It was free Broadway tickets," Mike shrugged.

"Yeah, but you´ve got enough money to go to a show every day and not be broke until you die," Linda pointed out. "David, stop eating the sand!" She jumped up and ran towards her son who was happily munching the brown substance much to the other children´s amusement.

"He always eats the sand when we´re here," Langying laughed. "I don´t know why Linda still hasn't noticed." They both watched a clearly annoyed Linda berating her six-year-old.

"You know what you´re doing?" Langying asked. "With Harvey, I mean?"

"Does anyone of us know what we´re doing when it comes to dating and stuff?" Mike returned.

"I guess we don´t," she agreed. "Just be careful."

"I´ll be," Mike assured her.

* * *

"Don´t you ever want more?" Harvey asked as they were slowly strolling along Broadway. Even though it was nearly midnight the streets were still abuzz with people and cars, as it usually was in Manhattan.

"More than what?" Mike asked.

"More than you currently have," Harvey said. "You´re really smart, you think outside the box and if you put your mind to it, you could do whatever you wanted."

"What if that´s what I´m already doing?" Mike pointed out. From Harvey´s disbelieving expression it seemed that the man didn't quite believe him.

"You´re working at a law clinic a few hours a week and the rest of it you take care of Draco," Harvey remarked. "You could already be Senior Associate at a good firm if you wanted."

"Draco´s parents entrusted me with his care and provided me with the means to offer him only the best. I don't need to work for money, Harvey, I only need to work for my personal fulfilment," Mike explained. "And I know how the work-life-balance at law firms looks like, especially for Associates and I wouldn't do that to Draco." He shook his head. "I actually like raising him. I like forming him into a decent, inquisitive person who will one day archive greatness, even if it´s at the expense of mine – which I don´t, by the way. Is that such a difficult mindset to understand?"

"I don´t know," Harvey admitted. "My mother…she went back to work as soon as she could, because raising us didn't give her the satisfaction that her job did. And my father – he´s great, don´t get me wrong, and he loved us with all of his heart – but sometimes the love for his music was greater. So, I don´t really believe that people can be content with just raising their children."

"I´m sorry, Harvey," Mike said.

"Don´t be," Harvey shrugged him off. "My dad and I have a great relationship." He didn't say anything about his mother, but Mike didn't pry further.

"Well, I can´t speak for everyone, but I´m completely happy with who I am right now," Mike told Harvey. "And with whom." And because he felt especially daring right now, he leaned forward and kissed the other man.

Harvey kissed back enthusiastically.

* * *

Harvey knew that he was falling for Mike and there was nothing he could do against it.

Objectively, there was no reason for Harvey to even like Mike. He was a bleeding heart, a good-doer who didn't care about money, power and influence and who had no ambition beyond what he was currently doing. He wore hideous skinny ties, his suits weren't tailored and he talked while he ate.

And most importantly, he had a child.

But despite all this, Harvey couldn't help but feel that all too familiar fluttering in his stomach every time Mike just called. He couldn't help but observe Mike when they were together, the way his eyes lit up when he talked about something he was passionate about, the way he would spew out facts and figures faster than Google, the way he expressed himself through his whole body when he spoke. Couldn't help but mark Mike all over when they slept with each other, couldn't help but feel his primal pride when he made Mike scream his name in his bedroom.

Mike touched corners of his being that he had thought he had buried long time ago when he entered the cutthroat world of corporate law. The caring and compassionate part of his mind that couldn't help but see a kindred spirit in Mike.

Harvey had really felt true love in his life, but he knew that he loved Mike. Maybe not with all of his heart, but he was slowly getting there, consumed by the emotions he felt towards the other man.

He wanted more with Mike than what they currently had, but he wasn't sure how.

He loved his niece and nephew and he was a great uncle – he knew that – but was that enough to permanently enter the life of another child? Harvey knew that his own upbringing had left its marks on his soul – fears, insecurities and self-loathing – and he was afraid of how it would affect everything going on from here onwards.

He blamed the endorphins, the rush of adrenaline that cursed through his veins after he had come with Mike clenched around him, this cosy feeling of security when they fell onto the mattress, entangled with each other, for the two words that slipped his mind.

"Love you," he mumbled into Mike´s neck as he took in the other man´s scent. His mind had barely caught up with what he said, but when before the panic could start to settle in, Mike had turned around and pressed his lips on Harvey´s in a kiss that was so passionate and fierce that it took Harvey´s breath away.

"Me, too," Mike murmured, his breath ghosting over Harvey´s lips. "I was just waiting for you to say it first."

And it that moment there was no place for any of Harvey´s fears.

* * *

Mike had thought long and hard about whether or not – and if yes, how – he should introduce Harvey to Draco. The boy knew about the other man and that he liked spiders…

 _("His brother´s got a tarantula?" he asked with wide eyes. "Why can´t you do stuff with him instead?" Mile laughed awkwardly, the tips of his ears burning as he thought about all the 'stuff' he had done with Harvey._

" _Because his brother´s already married."_

" _Pity," was Draco´s reply.)_

…but otherwise he didn't care much. Mike assumed mainly because until now Mike dating Harvey hadn't really had any influence on their everyday life. But that would change the closer Mike got to Harvey. Mike never had such intense feelings as he felt towards Harvey, never had wanted a person more than the suave lawyer and that sometimes scared him, because he didn't know how he could join together the various facets of his life into one.

It had barely been tow months, but it already felt like they had known each other for even longer. They had slotted together like pieces of a puzzle that belonged together, as if they were to faces of the same coins and had just needed to find each other and that simultaneously exhilarated and scared Mike.

What if their passion would fizzle out as fast as it had burned up? Did he really want to bring Draco into something so intense that it sometimes even terrified Mike? They had confessed their love for each other which exhilarated Mike beyond anything he thought possible, but that also meant that things were becoming serious. He needed to take Draco with him if he decided to move forward with Harvey.

"Just talk to your child about it," Trevor suggested when Mike finally opened up to him about his fears and insecurities. "Ask him if he wants to meet Harvey and if he does, then just do it."

"He´s six," Mike pointed out.

"Yeah, but not stupid," Trevor replied. "You have to trust him that he knows what he wants. You were never with anyone before, so maybe he´s even gonna be excited about it? Maybe he´d like to have a second dad or something."

"But what if he doesn't?" Mike fretted.

"Well, you´ll never know if you don't try," Trevor remarked. Mike took a sip from his beer and thought that – maybe – Trevor was right. Maybe instead of fretting and overthinking it he should just sit down with his kid and talk to him; maybe he should give Draco a chance.

"Do you want Harvey to be part of your life?" Trevor asked. "Of your lives?"

Mike just nodded.

"Then that´s your answer."

Mike supposed that this was true. The first thing he did, though, was talk to Harvey.

"Would you be willing to meet Draco?" Mike asked. Only know it occurred to him that he had never even bothered to ask Harvey what his thoughts on children were. Mike knew that Harvey had a niece and nephew and from what little he had told, Mike had been able to gleam that Harvey loved them very much, but did that translate to the man being willing to have children – or rather a child – in his life as well?

Because if he wasn't…well, then what was even the point of their relationship?

"I don´t know," Harvey replied. "I mean, I´d love to meet him, but…"

"But what?" Mike asked. He looked at Harvey and for the first time he saw something that he had never seen on the man´s face before: uncertainty.

"What if doesn't like me?" It sounded like some bad romcom, but that single sentence illustrated how vulnerable Harvey allowed himself to be in Mike´s presence and that unconditional trust Harvey put into him made Mike feel like he was the king of the world. Harvey thought him worthy enough to trust him with his heart and that would always be something that kept Mike going.

"Harvey," Mike said, laying his hand atop Harvey´s shoulder. "I won´t deny that Draco not liking you would complicate matters immensely." Mike didn't say out loud that it would probably spell the slow death of their relationship, but deep down both of them knew it. "But I don´t think he will. He´s a sweet and curious boy and as long as you don´t kill a puppy in front of him, he won´t hate you."

"Well, there goes my evening plans," Harvey joked weakly. Mike just looked at him with this annoyed fondness that you could only direct at people you were really close to.

"Everything´s gonna be fine," Mike assured him. And right now he believed it, too.

Later that evening found the two members of the Malfoy-Ross clan eating pizza in the living room because Mike had been too lazy to cook. Sometimes you just needed to embrace the unhealthy and just indulge, at least that was what Mike told himself every time he just couldn't motivate himself to even open the fridge.

"There´s something I wanted to talk with you about," Mike hesitantly broached the topic. Draco looked up, half of the piece of pizza stuffed down his throat.

"Whaf?"

"You know I´ve been seeing Harvey for the last few weeks…" Mike began. Draco tilted his head to the side and waited for Mike to continue. "And I wanted to know if you like to meet him?"

"Why?" Draco wanted to know.

"Because I really like him and I want you two to like each other as well," Mike replied.

"Alright," Draco agreed and continued eating his pizza. Mike was a little bit floored by the boy´s sudden agreement so that he had to wrap his head around it before he continued to speak.

"Really?"

"He´s your friend," Draco told him as if he was explaining Mike how to breathe properly. "I´ve met all your friends, so it´s only fair that I´m gonna meet Harvey, too."

Well, what kind of man could argue against that kind of logic?

* * *

Harvey was already there when Mike and Draco arrived at Central Park. Arabella had escaped her cage and so the two of them had spent the whole morning looking for the spider until they found her under Mike´s bed where she had happily munched on a dead roach.

But now they were here, half an hour too late and about to meet Harvey. Mike´s hands were damp and sweaty and the collar of his shirt suddenly felt as if it was trying to suffocate him. His heart was beating like a drum and he could hear the blood rushing through his ears.

He was more nervous than he had been before their actual first date.

But there was a reason for that: The stakes were much higher now than they had been back then. Mike was about to lead Harvey deeper into his live than any other person before and just thinking about all that could go wrong made him want to turn around and forget all about this.

He didn't, though. He didn't, because he knew that something good could come out of this; a part of his life that had been missing until now.

"Where is he?" Draco asked.

"Over there," Mike replied and pointed towards Harvey who was standing there in a long black coat that exuded sophistication. When Harvey noticed them, a smile crept on his face and slowly he made his way towards them.

"Be nice, alright?" Mike asked of Draco who just nodded.

"Mike," Harvey greeted him when he reached the two of them. There was no kiss, not even a hug, both men unsure about how to act around Draco. Mike wanted to reach out and touch Harvey, but Draco being here threw him off completely. Was it okay to hug Harvey? Or would it be too much? Should he act as if they were just friends and nothing more?

"And you must be Draco," Harvey continued, focusing his attention on the boy who clutched Mike´s hand like it was his only lifeline in a stormy sea. "Mike told me about you."

"He told me stuff about you, too," Draco replied a little bit unsure as if needed to find his footing as well.

"What did he tell you about me?" Harvey wanted to know, an easy smile on his lips that seemed to put Draco at ease. At least the pressure around Mike´s hand lessened a little bit.

"He told me that your brother´s got a tarantula," Draco said, one hand still clutching Mike´s.

"Yeah, he named him Harvey," Harvey told Draco. "Said that the spider was as mean and hairy as I. But he really loved him."

"You don´t seem mean," Draco offered hesitantly.

"Well, thanks," Harvey replied. "But he´s my little brother, you know, and little brothers are supposed to think that their bigger brothers are mean, even if they aren´t."

"Well, that's stupid," Draco proclaimed. "Brothers are stupid. I never want one."

"I guess you don´t have to fear Mike suddenly getting pregnant," Harvey joked while Draco just scrunched up his nose in disgust.

"Mike´s a man!" he exclaimed. "He can´t get pregnant!"

"Could we please stop discussing whether or not I can get pregnant?" Mike interrupted the two of them. "Draco, why don´t you tell Harvey about the documentary about spiders we watched yesterday?" At the mention of spiders, Draco´s face lit up and without reservations he started to speak up.

"It was so cool!" he beamed at Harvey. "They showed all kinds of spiders and what they could do! Did you know that spiders have blue blood?!"

"No, I didn't," Harvey replied, his whole attention focused on Draco. "Is it because they´re royalty?"

"No!" Draco exclaimed. "It´s because they got different stuff in their blood than humans have. Mike, what´s it called?"

"In humans, oxygen is bound to haemoglobin, a molecule that contains iron and gives blood its red colour," Mike recited from memory. "In spiders, oxygen is bound to hemocyanin, a molecule that contains copper rather than iron. And because of that spider blood got a blueish tint." Draco giggled.

"Mike remembers everything," he told Harvey as if it was a big revelation.

"I know a few things about spiders as well," Harvey admitted. "The world's biggest spider is the goliath spider. It can grow up to 11 inches wide, and its fangs are up to one-inch long."

"I already knew that!" Draco exclaimed excited. "I wanted to have one, but Mike didn't allow it."

"Because there are laws against it, Draco," Mike sighed. "I explained that to you already." But apparently Draco wasn´t really interested in getting another lecture about animal protection laws, because he was beginning to fidget with Mike´s hand Mike knew that the boy was slowly getting bored.

"Why don´t you go to the playground over there and play with the kids?" he suggested. "Harvey and I are gonna sit down on the bench over there and watch." Mike hadn't even finished speaking when Draco was already running over the meadow towards the other children, laughing happily as he did so. Mike watched it with a fond smile on his face.

"He´s really something," Harvey remarked.

"Yeah," Mike agreed, "he really is."

Later when they had separated from Harvey and were on their way back home, Mike dared to ask the single question that was weighting on his mind.

"And, what do you think about Harvey?" he asked Draco.

"He´s nice," the boy replied. "And he knows stuff about spiders." A short pause where he seemed to be heavily thinking. "I guess he´s alright."

"So you wouldn't mind if I were to continue seeing him?" Mike asked, wanting to make sure that Draco knew what this talk was all about.

"You still be my Mike?" Draco asked. Knowing that he had to reassure his child, Mike kneeled down and placed both of his hands on Draco´s shoulders.

"Of course," he assured the boy.

"Then I guess you can see him."

* * *

After that it was if the final barrier between Harvey and Mike had completely broken down. Draco´s acceptance of the other made it possible for Mike to give himself completely over to the other man. Before he had always held a piece of himself back out of fear that he needed to let Harvey go, but now he could finally commit himself to the relationship in a way he hadn't before.

Harvey, too, changed: He seemed to be more at ease around Mike, more willing to let him in now that he was sure that Mike wouldn't just vanish. He smiled more often; the kind of smile that made his whole face light up.

Harvey was around more often, as well. Every now and then – not often, but often enough to call it a habit – he stayed the night at Mike´s (they didn't have sex there, obviously, Draco didn't need to be traumatised like that) and left in the morning after he had made an exquisite breakfast.

Who knew that Harvey could cook that well.

The interactions between Harvey and Draco were easy and fun to watch – at least to Mike: Harvey managed to engage Draco with random facts and retellings of his childhood shenanigans which had the young boy hanging on his every word. He never gave Draco the feeling that he bored Harvey or that whatever he was excitingly rambling about wasn't important and for that Mike loved him even more.

Everything seemed perfect – at least to Mike, so of course it didn't take long for everything to come crushing down like a house of cards.

The moment that changed everything happened three months after Mike had met Harvey for the first time: Harvey had stayed over – the fifth time this month already – and was standing in the kitchen, leaning against the counter whit a coffee in his hand while Mike sat at the table and munched on his croissant. There wasn't much talking, but Mike didn't mind. Sometimes, silence didn't need to be filled with words.

Mike stole a glance at Harvey and again all those feelings started to swirl around in his stomach. This disbelief that he had gotten himself such an incredible man, the happiness that threatened to make him break out into a smile at the most inopportune moments, and also this little bit of horniness, because Mike knew all too well what was hidden underneath the layers of wool and silk.

Frankly, all of it was so incredible that Mike sometimes had trouble believing that all of it was real. But here Harvey was, in his kitchen, drinking coffee from one of Mike´s cups.

"What are you doing today?" Mike asked casually.

"Getting my clients what they want, try to evade Donna´s questions and generally being my awesome self," Harvey replied smugly. From anyone else such arrogance would have put him off, but with Harvey Mike found it strangely endearing. "You?"

"I guess, I´ll take Draco to the Museum of Natural History today," Mike told him. "They have a new exhibition on dinosaurs and Draco´s been wanting to see it for ages." Right in this moment, the subject of their talk walked into the kitchen, still in his pyjamas and half-asleep. Sitting down next to Mike, Draco stared at him through half-closed lids as if he expected Mike to know what he wanted him to do just through the power of observation.

To be honest, Mike knew perfectly well what Draco wanted.

"How often do I have to tell you that I´m not your maid?" Mike grumbled, but he nevertheless stood up and pulled the milk out of the fridge and made Draco a bowl full of Lucky Charms which he then put in front of the child.

"Have you ever thought about having him prepare it himself instead of you doing it?" Harvey remarked. It seemed that only now Draco noticed that the other man was even there, because he shot Harvey an angry glare.

"What´s he doing here?" he wanted to know.

"Watch your tone," Mike warned the boy.

"No," Draco shot back sullenly. "He´s always here. In the morning, in the evening, at night."

"Harvey´s at work, too," Mike pointed out, trying to starve off an impending melt-down by a hysteric six-year-old.

"No, he´s always here!" Draco cried. "I never get to do stuff with you." And now there were tears flowing down his cheeks. "You´re always with him. He´s trying to steal you!" They were in a full-blown crisis right now. Mike looked at Harvey who just stared at him like a deer caught in the head lights.

He wanted to move forward, to embrace Draco and assure him that no one would ever steal Mike away from him, but just as Mike started to move, the ugly vase hat stood on the kitchen counter, burst into thousand shards.

Coldness surged through Mike´s veins as he realised what just happened. Draco had done accidental magic – in the presence of a Mundane!

"Draco, please, you have to calm down," Mike tried to calm the distraught boy, but his words were of no use, as the desk on which Mike had just sat a few seconds ago splintered into pieces.

There was no way he could hide all that.

"Draco, please, listen to me," Mike pleaded again, but it was to no avail.

His boy was crying and all around them things were bursting into thousand splinters as if a bomb had gone off in the room. Everything happened in slow motion, a cacophony of destruction and rage and Mike could do nothing as he watched Harvey witnessing it all.

When Draco had finally calmed down and the destruction had stopped, the boy ran out of the room like a cloud of barely constrained anger and left Mike with a difficult choice: Going after the distraught boy or taking care of Harvey who had just witnessed the boy´s bout of accidental magic. With heavy heart Mike chose the latter: He needed to make sure that Harvey would keep quiet and if not…well, then he needed to call in the Obliviators.

On Harvey, who was still standing in the doorframe, his expression unreadable as he looked at the wasted living room.

"Harvey," Mike pleaded as if he was talking to a panicked animal. "Please, don´t do anything rash. I promise you, I can explain everything. Just…don´t do anything okay."

"There´s nothing to explain," Harvey replied, his voice even and void of any emotion. Mike´s heart sank. This was it; this would break the fragile something that had blossomed between them. Snuff it out like a match in a hurricane.

"There´s nothing to explain," Harvey repeated, "because I already know everything there´s to know." He made a gesture that by now was all too familiar to Mike and pulled a long, wooden stick out of the sleeve of his suit.

"You…you…" Mike choked out, but he was so overwhelmed that he couldn't get out more. Instead, he just let himself slide down on the wall until he was sitting on the ground, starring at it. He could hear steps and then Harvey´s way too expensive shoes appeared in his file of vision. The man crouched down until his face was on the same height as Mike´s.

"I really didn't know that Draco was a wizard and that you knew, because I would have said something," Harvey explained to him.

"I didn't know you were a wizard either," Mike mumbled, finally looking at Harvey.

"Well, I use my father´s name just so that no one magical is gonna notice me," Harvey told him.

"What, are you some kind of celebrity in the magical world?" Mike joked.

"My mother´s maiden name is Graves. My grandfather was Percival Graves." Mike let out a whistle.

"That´s a damn impressive lineage," he remarked.

"I don´t want it to define me," Harvey spoke, a silent determination in his voice. There was a moment of silence between them, where they just stewed in what they had both learned about the other, but hesitantly Mike broke it: "What now?"

"I don´t know," Harvey replied. "What do you want to do now?"

"I don´t want to give up what we have," Mike admitted.

"I want that, too," Harvey replied. "But I won´t be the man who stands between a parent and their child. I´ve been on the receiving end of that and I won´t be the one to do that to others. If Draco is willing to accept me, then I´ll gladly come back, but until then…" He stood up and offered his hand to Mike, who took it and let himself be pulled up by the other man.

Before Harvey could leave, though, Mike slung his arm around him and pressed himself against the other man; a futile gesture to keep time from marching on. He took a deep breath and inhaled Harvey´s smell: Coffee, paper, the smoky smell of the various high-end restaurants he always visited. When Mike finally let go he tried to imprint this smell into his memory as best as he could, for it could very well be the last time he would ever experience it.

"There´s one last thing I can do for you," Harvey said and with a wave of his wand, the broken pieces of furniture rose from the ground and re-assembled themselves in the air before returning to their places.

"Thanks," Mike mumbled. Harvey looked like he wanted to say something else, but in the end, he just nodded at Mike and then he stepped out of the room and out of the house, leaving Mike in an immaculate room.

Mike knew that – if he was a responsible parent – he should go upstairs and take care of Draco, but right now he just couldn't deal with it. Call him a coward or a bad parent, he didn't care. All strength had left him, as if he was just a puppet on strings that had been cut. He barely managed to slump on the couch and put the TV on some mind-numbing show before he fell asleep from the sudden exhaustion that had taken hold of him.

He was woken up by tiny fingers poking incessantly at his cheek.

"Mike," Draco whined. "Mike, Mike, Mike." Groaning in frustration, Mike sat up and stared down at the boy who started squirming under his gaze.

"What do you want, Draco?" Mike asked. Not angry, not disappointed, not frustrated. Just tired. So goddamn tired.

"Iwannaapologise," Draco spilled way too fast for Mike to understand.

"I didn't get that, buddy."

"I wanna apologise," Draco repeated.

"For what?" Mike asked. That wasn't some rhetorical question; he really wanted to know because for all he knew Draco was apologising for something Mike hadn't even thought of.

"For breaking our stuff," Draco replied. "And for making you sad."

"Draco." Gently, Mike pulled the young boy onto his lap. "You know that no one´s ever gonne replace you, don´t you? I´m your parent and until the day you get sick and tired of me I´ll always be that first and foremost." Tears were swilling up in Draco´s eyes. "But that doesn´t mean that I wouldn't like to have someone like Harvey in my life."

"But you´re my Mike," Draco wailed. He threw himself at Mike and slung his arms around his neck, burying his face in his chest.

"And I´ll always be yours," Mike assured the boy. "But that doesn't mean that someone else can´t be mine." For a while Draco was crying into the black fabric of his shirt while Mike tried to sooth him by drawing circles on his back with his fingers.

"Harvey´s kinda nice," Draco mumbled. "And Arabella likes him."

"So, having Harvey around isn´t that bad?" Mike asked, hope slowly blossoming in his chest.

"You´re still mine?" Draco asked. Mike nodded.

"I´ll guess he can come around sometimes then."

* * *

 _ **Five Years Later**_

* * *

Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve.

"Hogwarts, clear?" she said, when Harry started to speak. "Got the lot here – another young man being fitted up just now, in fact." In the back of the shop, a boy with a pale, pointed face was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes. Madam Malkin stood Harry on a stool next to him and slipped a long robe over his head, and began to pin it to the right length.

"Hello," said the boy, "Hogwarts, too?"

"Yes," said Harry.

"My fathers are next door buying my books," said the boy. He had a bored, drawling voice with an accent that Harry had only heard Americans speak on the telly. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll talk dad into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow. If I can convince him, then father will agree to it as well."

Harry had heard of two men or women being together. 'Fags' and 'dykes' Uncle Vernon had called them, accusing them of ruining the lives of 'perfectly normal folks'. Harry couldn't bring himself to agree with his uncle, because he was unnatural as well – at least according to his family.

"Have you got your own broom?" the boy went on.

"No," said Harry.

"Play Quidditch at all?"

"No," Harry said again, wondering what on earth Quidditch could be.

"I do – Dad says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Father always tells him to not inflate my arrogance, but it isn't arrogance when you have the talent to back it up," the boy spoke. "Know what house you'll be in yet?"

"No," said Harry, feeling more stupid by the minute.

"Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, because my dads are lawyers and I wanna be one, too, and I´ve gotta be ambitious for that, you know?"

"Mmm," said Harry, wishing he could say something a bit more interesting.

"I say, look at that man!" said the boy suddenly, nodding toward the front window. Hagrid was standing there, grinning at Harry and pointing at two large ice creams to show he couldn't come in.

"That's Hagrid," said Harry, pleased to know something the boy didn't. "He works at Hogwarts."

"Oh," said the boy, "That must be awesome, mustn´t it? Working at a magical school?"

"He's the gamekeeper," said Harry. "I think he's brilliant."

"Do you?" said the boy. "Why is he with you? Where are your parents?"

"They're dead," said Harry shortly. He didn't feel much like going into the matter with anyone.

"Oh, sorry," said the other. "My parents are dead as well, but I don't really remember them and I´ve got my dads anyway." The boy paused for a second, then asked: "What's your surname, anyway?"

But before Harry could answer, Madam Malkin said, "That's you done, my dear," and Harry hopped down from the footstool.

"Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose," the drawling boy called after him. Harry nearly ran into two men wearing suits who were entering the shop exactly in the same moment he tried to leave. Mumbling an apology, Harry ducked out of the way and walked towards Hagrid, the pale boy forgotten as the big man explained to him the wonders of quidditch.


End file.
